Fullmetal's War
by metal-head111
Summary: After disappearing from Amestris for two years, Edward Elric returns, changed from a cocky alchemist into a hardened military officer. With a United States Navy battle-group at his hands, will he save his homeland from Drachma? Or will his deteriating mental health and horrific past be what finally breaks this rock-hard super-soldier? PERMANENT HIATUS!
1. Prologue

**After watching Fullmetal Alchemist: CoS and finishing FMA: Brotherhood, I had this idea in my head that Ed disappeared after sacrificing his alchemy to bring his brother back. I was busy playing Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare afterwards, and this idea just popped into my head. I was also inspired by a movie called 'The Final Countdown'. Just wanted to give credit there, I do not own that movie. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except two electric guitars and my laptop.**

* * *

Fullmetal's War

Prologue

July 7th, 2062

_CFX-150 USS America_

Carrier Strike Group-21

"... _Copy that, Four-two-Niner, you are cleared to land. Deck is yours. I say again, the deck is yours._" The LSO reported.

"_Roger that, deck is mine. Sure am glad to come home._"

The flight deck of the flagship of the United States Navy was busy as usual. The taking off and landing of various fighter aircraft, officers and NCO's arguing over each other over trivial shit, etc. Carrier Strike Group-21 currently sat in bay of Pearl Harbor, ready to head out to sea. At its heart was the _America_-class supercarrier, _USS America,_ the pride of the Navy. At least three times longer than the standard _Gerald R. Ford_ supercarriers, she had a very different design than other aircraft carriers. Instead of one rectangular-type hull, she sported three hulls. Her main hull had a large dagger-like shape, with the 'Island' mega-structure on the very rear of the hull. Much of the deck was devoted to the parking, housing, and the taking off of her craft. The secondary hulls that were attached to the sides of the central hull also sported dagger-like hulls, but were shorter in length. They still had catapults, but also were the only way for aircraft to land on the carrier. With this design, she had a rather deadly look to her, as if she dared anyone to challenge her. And with numerous self-defense weaponry adorning her hull, she was a force to be reckoned with. And the rest of the Strike Group knew it. Carrier Strike Group-21 was the most decorated and well-known Naval battalion in the United States Navy. Having participated in every battle in the Pacific Theatre of World War III, it had gained the reputation of being a very deadly force to deal with.

On the bridge of the flagship, the _USS America_, was the ship's XO, Commander King Bradley. A well respected, well liked-and well feared-veteran naval officer, Cmdr. King Bradley was an able veteran in his own right. He was an enigma, though. He had the ability to pass off as an incredibly friendly man with a good sense of humor. However, he was also known as being an incredibly wrathful officer if you got on his bad side. Luckily, that was only reserved for his enemies, one of which never left him: his eyepatch, who, at the moment, was irritating his head like no other, causing the man to curse as he adjusted it. _Maybe I should've gone with the implant instead. Oh well, too late to do anything about that now. With the damn Chinese sending what's left of their subs out in the southern seas, I'll sure be busy these next several weeks._ His thoughts drifted as he watched the next plane land on the deck. He knew who it was, all too well.

It was a jet-black F/A-21 Thunderbird, the only one that was modified for the Navy. All the others were strictly Air Force. _Lt. Cmdr. John Comstock. Can't believe he's still in the service, after all the hell he's been through. But, he is our best pilot aside from the Fleet Admiral, and we do need his skill. I hope he can handle this._ He thought as he saw the large jet roll onto the large elevator. Shifting his thoughts, he picked up a data-pad and began going over the current status of the Strike Group and it's current mission.

_1 America-class supercarrier? Check. 5 Gerald R. Ford-class supercarriers? Check. 5 Nimitz-class supercarriers? Check. 25 Zumwalt-class destroyers? Check._

_20 Ticonderoga-class missile cruisers? Check. 15 Ohio-class all-purpose nuclear submarines? Check. 4 Iowa-class battleships that we turned from museums to war machines?_

_Check. 5 Montana-class battleships, 5 Yamato-class battleships, 2 Bismarck-class battleships, 3 H44-class battleships, and 2 Super Yamato-class battleships, all of_

_whom the Fleet Admiral had built from scratch to give us additional firepower? Check and check._

_Our mission: Escort 55 transport/cargo ships and 40 supply ships to mainland China for the occupation force? In progress, as soon as the Fleet Admiral gets off his lazy-_

"Fleet Admiral on the bridge!" the deck officer barked, taking Bradley out of his mental rant. Everyone immediately saluted the aforementioned officer as he walked into the command room.

"At ease. Commander Bradley, are we ready?" the admiral asked.

"The last of our fighters have returned, ships have reported battle stations ready on all decks."

"Okay. NORAD has just delivered me satellite images of old Russian submarines believed to be under Chinese control forming up in the Sea of Japan. They want CSG-21 to destroy them before we drop off our package to China. Any questions?"

There were none.

"Good. Let's take care of last of the Chinese Navy." The Admiral said as his massive supercarrier slowly sailed out of Pearl Harbor, silently passing the _USS Arizona Memorial_.

* * *

July 11th, 2062

_CFX-150 USS America_

Carrier Strike Group-21

Sea of Japan

The smell of burning steel mingled with the roars of U.S. Navy fighter jets screaming overhead. The Admiral loved that smell, loved that sound. While he filled his nostrils with the smells of war, he silently held the Chinese in pitiful contempt. It was more than old subs they had to contend with. When CSG-21 headed south through the Sea of Japan, they found themselves fighting a force of 8 decrepit _Quebec_-class submarines from the old Soviet Union, along with about 20 old missile batteries and 27 hastily-constructed torpedo boats. None of them stood a chance against the massive battle-group.

"Admiral Elric, Commander Bradley wishes to speak with you on the bridge." A United States Marine informed.

"I'll be right up there." The young Fleet Admiral replied. He took one last look at the burning sea, inhaling deeply. He let the wind whip his non-standard hair around, his pony tail slapping his neck. He didn't care, though, he had been through enough hell through the various wars; nothing really scared him anymore. _Can't believe it's been 15 years. So many battles, so much blood... will I ever return home? And even if I did, would Al still recognize me? Would Winry? Would any of them recognize me? And not just physically._ Fleet Admiral Edward Elric thought to himself as he unconsciously rubbed the crisscrossing patchwork of scars that adorned the right side of his face, along with the UNSC Marine Corps tattoo on his neck. Up on the bridge,

"Commander, report."

"Last of the Chinese subs have been destroyed, thanks to you. How did you know of their tactics?" he asked.

"Lucky guess." Edward replied, his mind elsewhere from the battlefield.

"Hmm. Well, specs has something rather interesting for you. Envy has something similar also. It's concerning this large storm that just appeared." On the radio,

"_Bradley, you show the Fleet Admiral pipsqueak this massive storm that just appeared?_" the voice of the battlegroup CAG erupted.

"Screw you, Envy. What do you got?" Elric asked.

"_Damned if I know. Sent down all my pilots so I wouldn't risk losing them. I'm gonna take a few more pictures and keep the camera rolling. You're getting the feed, right?_" a large thunderstorm had amassed in the seas. The first signs had started yesterday evening in the form of several dark clouds. Now, it was starting to get worse.

"Envy, get back here now. Bring the fleet in, submarines, ships, everything. I want all planes strapped to the deck, all hatches sealed shut, the hanger deck closed, all ordinance strapped down and locked away, you know the drill. The sooner we get out of this storm, the sooner we can drop off those transports." Edward ordered. He took a look out the window and gazed at the scene. The trident-like hull of his ship cut through the water like it was nothing, but the storm clouds threw down lightning like an angry God was striking the water, as if it had dared to talk back to Him. A strange red glow appeared on the water, but only momentarily.

"Did you see that?" Lt. Col. Maes Hughes asked. More of an observation officer than anything else, Hughes was also one of the more trusted officers onboard, but also one of the most annoying, in the fact that he was almost always rather cheerful and always shoved his pictures of his wife and daughter to whomever he saw. Needless to say, he was always ready to give out advice whenever anyone asked for it. He was also 3rd in command of the vessel, and one of Edward's more trusted officers, along with Bradley and Envy.

"Yeah. Envy, you onboard?" Edward asked.

"_Parking my plane in the hanger._" He replied.

"Alright, give the order to all ships. Stay within sight of each other, full speed ahead. We're gonna go through this." Edward commanded. As the battlegroup sped through the storm, the red glow appeared again. _Is that..._ _No, that can't be. Not here._ Edward thought.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Carrier Strike Group-21_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy, Edward Elric_

* * *

Unknown time

_CFX-150 USS America_

Carrier Strike Group-21

Unknown location

The bridge crew slowly woke up, all wondering two things: 1) what was with the massive hangover, and 2) what the fuck happened? Edward pushed those thoughts out of his head as he grabbed the headset.

"All ships, this is the Fleet Admiral. Sound off." He ordered. Ship captains barked out the names of their ships. Within minutes, the entire Strike Group had been accounted for. But where they were at, was a far different story.

"Ensign, where are we?" Edward asked.

"Still trying to figure that out, sir. Can't get a hold of the GPS Array or any of orbiting satellites."

"We were just in the Sea of Japan, start with Japan first."

"I'm getting nothing, sir."

"Nothing? Alright, no bullshitting around. Go to battle stations, condition 1. And find out where we are!" Edward yelled.

"Sir, I can't get a hold of any of our GPS Array's or any satellites. No buoys, no signal mines, there's absolutely nothing we're reading."

"Get me the White House immediately! If you can't reach them, get me the Pentagon, if not then go for SecDef. If they're a no-show, go for Pearl Harbor! And I want continuous watch on RADAR and SONAR at all times!"

"Yes sir!"

The bridge of the USS America was noisy with activity; military men and women trying to figure out what had happened as the warships cut through the water. On the outer rail of the conning tower, Admiral Elric and two of his officers, XO Bradley and Lt. Cmdr. Hughes stood outside, puffing on their cigarettes.

"Any ideas?" Edward asked.

"More then likely some sort of EMP weapon the Chinese activated." Bradley muttered.

"That would explain why we're cut off from outside comms. Can't get anything out. Doesn't explain why we were knocked out. EMP's don't hurt humans." Hughes offered.

"Any other ideas?" Edward sighed.

"I don't know, maybe the Sea of Japan has turned into the new Bermuda Triangle." Bradley joked. Edward chuckled at that.

"What, we somehow crossed into another world? If we did go into another world, I'd prefer if we had gone through the Bermuda Triangle, at least that would've been a little more believable." the young Admiral sighed. Edward then looked up.

"Fuck. When did the sun move so quickly?" Edward asked. The three officers quickly ran back into the bridge.

"Lieutenant Crandell, give me our location in correlation to the sun's current location, give me your best guess!" Edward ordered.

"Checking... Sir, I believe the fleet may have moved. Based on our last known position and the current location of the sun, my best guess would put us at least... at least 72 miles south of Pearl Harbor, sir." Crandell said slowly, in awe. The bridge was now silent save for equipment running.

"Are you telling me... that Carrier Strike Group-21 somehow managed to cross over 1,000 miles in the blink of an eye?" Edward asked.

"I believe so, sir." the lieutenant said, nervously licking his dry lips.

"Current location? Latitude or Longitude?"

"I can't get an accurate location, sir. We have to wait for the stars to appear, sir."

_What the hell happened to us? That red light seemed so familiar, was that a damn Transmutation Circle on the water? One large enough to swallow an entire fleet of Navel warships? And if that's true, how the hell did it get activated? Alchemy doesn't exist here. Could Truth be playing with me? Dammit, Edward, think straight. Make sure your command is safe and working in good order, then find out what happened._

"Have the fleet head north immediately, full speed. Inform CAG to go to Pearl, see if he can contact them. And send him the co-ordinates again, twice. I'm tired of him always saying that either he forgot the location of the damn harbor, or that he never got the data package." Edward sighed.

* * *

Unknown time

_CFX-150 USS America_

Carrier Strike Group-21

Unknown location

(3 1/2 hours later)

"Rapture, this is Big Daddy. Are you sure you sent me the right co-ordinates?"

"_Copy that. You should be over Pearl Harbor right about now._"

"Yeah, I'm at the co-ordinates. I double checked them myself. Nothing's here."

"_What do you mean? Has Pearl Harbor been destroyed?_"

"No, there literally is nothing here. No Pearl Harbor, no Hawaii islands... there's nothing here. Send 'em again." After a few minutes,

"Okay, got 'em. Admiral, something's not right. There are no Hawaii islands here. No land mass, no Pearl Harbor, there's nothing here, just ocean. Say what you want, throw me in the brig, ground me, I don't care. I'm RTB immediately."

"_Negative on that. We just picked something up on RADAR. Looks like a contact, a vessel of some sort. Go check it out, ID and report. Here is the location._"

"Fine. This day gets better and better. Husker, Killjoy, follow me. Admiral's picked up a contact, wants us to go check it out."

"_Can someone explain to me what's going on? Do you know what's going on, Envy?_"

"Not a damn clue." The veteran pilot responded.

* * *

**I'm basing the F/A-21 Thunderbird off the CFA-44 Nosferatu from Ace Combat, but with extra features. The F/A-85 Mustang II is based off the ADFX-01 Morgan from Ace Combat.**

**Note: In this story, the Thunderbird, although it has the look, shape, and design of the CFA-44 Nosferatu from Ace Combat, in this story, it is approximately 2 1/2 times larger then the Fenrir aircraft from the Ace Combat series.**

**The F/A-21 Thunderbird and the F/A-85 Mustang II are my planes. The ADFX-01 Morgan and the CFA-44 Nosferatu belong to Ace Combat, I do not own them.**

**I'm planning on making this story more dark as it goes on, so you are warned. Read and review.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. There are some scenes in this chapter that are very reminiscent from a movie called 'The Final Countdown'. I don't own that movie. Read and review! Enjoy the latest chapter!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 1

May 2nd, 1917

Several miles off the Aerugo Coast

_S.S. Armstrong_

"Stop that... dammit, you bastard, stop teasing me... R-Roy, don't, please don't stop..." came out the breathy moans from one General Riza Hawkeye Mustang, wife of Fuhrer Roy Mustang of Amestris. The current Fuhrer simply smirked as he shoved his tongue deeper and deeper inside her womanhood, not caring if anyone else on the massive yacht heard. Which they probably wouldn't have, but if they did, the two didn't have any care in the world. Right now at the moment, he, his wife, and his old team were enjoying the last few days of their vacation before heading back to Central.

Alex Armstrong had loaned Mustang the 'Armstrong Family Yacht' for use. In hindsight, though, Roy should've known just how large and luxurious the boat would be. He put those thoughts out of his head as he moved upward, trailing kisses up Riza's bare body, stopping at her large breasts and hungrily sucked them. Before Riza lost her thoughts, she could only think of one thing. _I'm gonna enjoy this._

* * *

May 2nd, 1917

Several miles off the Aerugo Coast

_S.S. Armstrong_

(A few minutes later...)

"Well, looks like the lovebirds finally came out to enjoy the sun." Lt. Havoc joked, standing on a railing, ready to dive into the cold water. Or he would've, if it wasn't for the famed 'Hawk's Eye' shoving him.

"Was that really called for?" Rebecca asked.

"If you're gonna jump, jump. Don't just stand there." Riza smirked as she laid down on her stomach, enjoying the warm sun on her back. She reached behind to remove her bra, sighing as Roy gently rubbed a small amount of sunblock on her.

"Was that really necessary?" Havoc asked as he climbed back onboard, now completely soaked.

"Hey, just be glad Alex wasn't here, or else his cannonball could've capsized the yacht." Falman remarked, sitting down wearing a colorful button-up shirt and shorts. A drink was in his right hand.

"Well, considering that it does belong to his family, he probably wouldn't risk that." Fuery remarked.

"Maybe so. But then again, we wouldn't wanna see-" Breda started, but was interrupted by Black Hayate's sudden barking. What he was barking at, none of them knew.

"Hey, what is it boy?" Riza asked, gently scratching her dog's neck. He continued barking, however, and everyone looked out at the sea. They saw nothing.

"Wait. Turn the radio off, does anyone hear that?" Mustang asked. With the radio off, they could hear something faint.

"Is something out there growling?" Breda asked.

"No, sounds more like a train coming close." Falman remarked.

"There, what are those?" Riza pointed out at three objects in the air. With a loud, angry noise that none of them ever heard before, the three flying objects roared overhead at an incredible speed, before heading straight up into the blue sky.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE THINGS?! DID YOU SEE THEM?!" Roy asked.

"Whatever they are, they're pretty damn fast! Hey, they're coming back down! Two of them are just circling around up there, what's the other one doing?" Rebecca asked. The massive, delta-shaped object slowly came to a hover above the yacht. It was dark black, had fire coming out the rear and bottom, and was made out of a rather strong steel. And it was unlike anything any of them had ever seen before.

"Looks like some sort of giant, metal bird! Roy, is the military creating anything like this?" Falman asked.

"Nope, we're still stuck on the observation balloons! What's this thing doing?" Roy asked as the massive black metal bird simply hovered in the air. After a while, it started to move around the yacht. And Mustang &amp; Co continued to stare at it, tracking it's every movement. After a while, it slowly gained altitude and roared away.

"Take us back to port. We're heading back to Central, I want inquires made as soon as we return." Roy ordered.

* * *

May 2nd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Unknown Location

"Envy, you over the target just yet?" Edward asked.

"_Uh, yes. Looks like a yacht, definitely civilian. No discernible weapons, no armaments. Looks to be in damn good condition, someone rich must own it. Got a flag on the rear, looks like some sort of white dragon on a green background. Got some pictures of it. Permission to head north._"

"Why?"

"_Radar is giving me a large landmass up north-_"

"Envy, here are your orders: Scout the land, take whatever pictures you deem necessary, but do not engage any one unless they make the first move. I repeat, do not fire unless fired upon. How's your fuel level?"

"_We got enough to last us a few hours. We're moving out._"

"Alright, see you later. Contact the _Iowa,_ tell her to stand down. No need to blast a yacht to pieces." Edward sighed as the battleship lowered her mighty guns and slowly took her rightful place in the battlegroup.

"Can't believe you were prepared to blow a civilian yacht outta the water. The lead rail-cannons on the battlewagons would definitely do the trick, though, not to mention they have the range." Hughes remarked.

"Remember that ambush in the Indian Gulf? Three civilian ships that had explosives tucked in their hulls that left a destroyer listing. I'm not taking any chances, not with my fleet." Edward muttered rather darkly. Bradley and Hughes glanced a look at each other, worried about their CO.

* * *

May 2nd, 1917

Resembool, Amestris

"Okay, what else to take shots of? Meh, fuck it, I'm bored. I'm gonna see what's on that train down there." Envy sighed, bringing his large fighter close to the ground. Bringing it closer, he tinted his cockpit glass, and holographic screens appeared, showing the pilot the outside world. Turning the camera to the left, he began taking snapshots of the train, capturing the images of the men and women inside who were absolutely stunned to see the massive Thunderbird fly next to them.

"Jeez, you should see the look on their faces; they act as if they never seen an airplane before." Envy sighed.

"_For all we know, they haven't. This could be a place that doesn't have mechanized flight._" Killjoy responded.

"Maybe. Alright, let's keep flying. See what else is here."

"_Shouldn't we be taking pictures of more important items? Like military installations_?" Killjoy asked.

"I'm in charge, we'll go where I say. Let's move."

* * *

May 2nd, 1917

Rush Valley, Amestris

"Well, that's the last box. I can't believe this is actually happening." Winry sighed, rubbing her sore arms. Atelier Garfiel was re-locating: Due to Winry's incredible handy-work at automail, her shop was being relocated to Central City, largely due to a large automail company in Central that wanted her expertise. She said yes, but only on one condition that she bring her co-workers with her. She owed them that much; having taken her in and showed her more knowledge of automail, treating her like a family member. So she wasn't going to part with them.

"So, when Al comes back to Central, you gonna pay him a... special visit?" Paninya asked, winking as she did so. Winry simply blushed.

"Stop that, Paninya. And besides, Al's the one who's helping with all this-hey, do you guys hear that?" Winry asked. A strange growly, scratchy noise was heard. Everyone walked outside, and found the streets filled with everyone wondering what the strange noise was. They soon found it in three U.S. Navy fighter jets, one of them slowing down to hover over the village.

"What is that thing?" Paninya asked.

"I don't know. I'll have to ask Al about that, see if the military is behind this." Winry said, her eyes transfixed on the large black craft as he slowly moved around, skimming the rooftops. Then it slowly moved higher into the sky and flew away. Everyone kept their eyes on it until it almost disappeared. It suddenly turned around and screamed over their heads at an _incredible_ speed, sending off a loud 'boom' in the air and shattering almost all the windows in the town.

* * *

"Envy, did you really have to buzz them, shatter their windows and destroy their ear drums?" Husker asked.

"I was bored." Came the simple reply.

"Oh brother. Alright, what else do you want to sight-see?" Killjoy asked.

* * *

May 2nd, 1917

Central City, Amestris

(Five hours later)

"Right. Thank you." Roy sighed as he put the receiver down. "That was R&amp;D. They haven't been developing anything such as the objects we saw earlier. What's so strange is that we're getting reports from all over Amestris. And they all share the same thing: three large metallic birds that fly over with a loud scratching noise, two are a light grey color with wings angled forward and a large tube on the rear, the 3rd is a large diamond-shaped craft, colored black that slows down and hovers in the air for a while, then it leaves." Mustang sighed as he looked down at the reports. Not to mention some _very_ detailed drawings of the strange objects from Major Alex Armstrong. They looked exactly like what he saw earlier in the day.

"Could these be from Drachma, perhaps?" the large Alchemist asked.

"I don't know. If they were, your sister probably would've taken matters into her own hands, though, if that were true. No way she'd let these things go over Ft. Briggs. Mr. Hohenheim, during your travels, have you ever seen anything like this?"

The living Philosopher Stone walked forward and picked up the drawings. After studying them,

"No. Not even Xerxes had this capability. And I severely doubt that any other country has these flying objects. If Amestris doesn't have them, then it should be a safe bet that no-one else does also."

"So, where did they came from? You said they came from the sea, right?" Alphonse asked. Roy pulled down a large map of Amestris and the surrounding countries.

"We were off the coast of Aerugo, and they did come in from the south. But they honestly could've come from anywhere. Alright, this is a direct order: any further sightings of these flying objects are to be reported to Central immediately. I wanna know more about this."

That's when they heard a familiar noise.

"Again?" Alex asked. Everyone rushed out to the balcony and saw three familiar objects in the evening sky.

"What, are they following us?" Breda asked. The large black one pulled down next to the large palace, same routine of just hovering there, occasionally moving around. Then it flew back to the other two and the three roared away.

* * *

May 2nd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Force-21

"Bradley, next time I send Comstock out on a recon mission, I want you to shoot me for treason and then shoot his plane outta the sky. Open up with everything we got, all the fighters, cruise missiles, nukes, AA batteries, rail guns..." Edward sighed as he stared at the night sky, leaning against the rail.

"That bad, eh?" Bradley joked, sipping his hot cocoa.

"This is turning into a goddamn shitstorm. I send him out for a little recon run that's supposed to take just a few hours, not all goddamn day. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me, I should've known better." Edward sighed, puffing his cigarette.

"You're just overworking yourself. Retire for the day, and use a clear head tomorrow. When Envy gets back, we'll talk to him and see what he saw." Bradley consoled the angry Admiral.

"What would they think of me if they saw me?" Edward whispered. "Come again, Sir?" Bradley asked.

"Just... Just thinking. If I really have returned home, what would my friends and family think of me if they saw me again? A 32-year old Fleet Admiral who's been through hell and back with some scars and tattoo's on his body." Edward muttered.

"Well, they might not notice that you're 32. To be honest, you only look like you're 16 years old. And I'm not talking about your height, you still have that slight teenage look to your face. Don't know where that came from, but that's obviously a good thing. Cause when you're older than dirt, you'll still look young. Both you and Envy share that trait." Bradley said with a gentle smile.

"Speak of the devil, they're back. About time." Edward sighed as he watched the three recon planes slam onto the flight deck.

"Tell Envy he's to drop off whatever footage and photos he's taken, get them developed, and then he's to hit the hay. I'll see you in the morning." Edward sighed as he left the bridge. Bradley stayed behind, thinking to himself.

_So what does this world have to offer? If this is indeed Edward's home, will he stay? Or will he come back with us? What would his friends and family think of him, of all the acts that he's done in the war? He's not the most mentally stable man that I've met, and he's done enough things to warrant him being put in front of a firing squad. What's going to happen, I wonder?_

* * *

_I need a medic over here..._ _Alpha-5, this is Kilo-1, we need an immediate napalm strike now..._ _Russian gunships to the left, grab that rocket launcher... Mortar strike, get down! Get down, now!_

Edward awoke with a yell, sweat drenching his sheets. He dragged himself to his bathroom and flipped on the light, staring in the mirror. Edward took a long look at himself. The various scars on the right side of his face. The U.S. Marine Corps tattoo on his neck. The Delta Force tattoo on his left breast. The Green Beret tattoo on his right ribcage. The Navy SEAL tattoo on his right waist. The Spetznaz tattoo on his left bicep. The Army Ranger tattoo on his left forearm. The SAS tattoo on his left butt cheek. The incredibly large amount of scars all over his bulging, muscular torso. The large bruise on his left ribcage that never seemed to go away. As he stared at his golden eyes, his thoughts turned dark.

_Edward Elric. Formerly, the Fullmetal Alchemist in the State Alchemist program of the Amestrian military. Then you rose the ranks to become the Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy, whilst simultaneously bouncing back and forth between different Special Forces units across the globe. You're dangerous in the cockpit, you're dangerous on the bridge of a ship, and you're dangerous on the ground with a rifle. Face it. You're a killer._

"No, I'm not." Edward whispered to himself.

_You're just denying your true nature. The shooting of all those war prisoners after you invaded Norway? The firebombing of Moscow? Killing all those civilians on the Mekong Delta river in Vietnam? Turning half of Paris into a crater just to drive the Russians back, knowing it was still inhabited with civilians? Using Bio-Chemical WMD's in Austria? Not to mention all those female officers you slept with. You fucked them, got them pregnant, then you managed to have them killed and covered up their deaths as fatalities in battle._

"Shut the fuck up."

_What would Winry and Alphonse think? What would Col. Mustang and his crew think of you if they saw you like this? The scars, the muscles, the tattoos? Tell me, who in their right mind enlists in not only the Marine Corps, but in several Special Forces units across the globe? The Spetznaz, the SAS, the Navy SEALS, the Delta Force? Got something to prove? Wanna prove that you can still dish out pain without the alchemy? Without that, you're nothing._

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Edward yelled, slamming his fist into the mirror, shattering it to pieces. He then collapsed on the floor, whimpering as tears rolled down his cheeks.

_You're a killer, Admiral Elric. That's what you've become, and that's all you'll ever be._

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fleet Admiral of the Navy, Edward Elric_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Lieutenant Commander John 'Envy' Comstock_

* * *

Another man onboard the ship was suffering as well.

_You couldn't save them. You single handedly stopped a fleet of nuclear missiles from slamming into the east coast of the United States. Destroyed an enemy fleet of submarines that were gonna sneak past the United States SONAR and park outside of NYC. You've shot down more enemy fighter planes and air vehicles then you could ever hope to pay back in your wildest imaginations. You graduated top of your class from the Flight Academy. You have the reputation of being the best pilot in the Navy, in the world, only arguably equal to or better than the Fleet Admiral. And yet you couldn't save your wife and two daughters from dying. _

Envy splashed cold water on his face, trying to drown out the thoughts in his mind. He stared at his reflection. Slightly pale skin, a _very_ muscular torso, purple eyes due to a still unidentifiable side-effect from his 'Super-Soldier Cyber-Pilot' program he went through, and long dark hair that had given him the nickname 'Palm-tree'. However, no-one, not even the Fleet Admiral himself, would dare say that to him. His wrath was all too famous in the Navy when he heard that spoken to him. He didn't care, however.

Grabbing the bottle, he pressed it to his lips and downed the last of the Sam Adams.

_What would Jennifer think, knowing that she married a suicidal, sadistic, alcoholic fighter pilot? What about Sarah and Rachel? How would they have grown up knowing what their father does to himself every morning?_

In anger, Envy slammed the bottle against the mirror, shattering it to pieces. Noticing a paper on the floor, he gently picked it up and stared at it. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he found it hard to breath. Walking back into his room, he collapsed on the bed, sobbing quietly.

"What kind of an ace fighter pilot can't even protect his own wife and kids?" he sobbed.

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Force-21

"You look like you've been through the wringer." Hughes remarked as Admiral Elric walked on the bridge, downing a large mug of coffee. In his other hand held two cans of NOS energy drinks.

"You sure you can drink all that?"

"Hey, it might take a couple years off my life, but I like this stuff." Edward smiled as he popped open the first can.

"Well, photos are finished. Wanna take a look at them?"

"Yes. You and Bradley go with me, Envy as well. Let's see what he found."

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Force-21

CIC-1B

Admiral Elric and his two subordinates waited in the CIC for the CAG to arrive. When he did, he had a grin on his face.

"Get a load of her tits, Edward!" he said as he tossed two large manila envelopes on the table.

"Who'd you snoop on this time?" Edward sighed as he opened up one of the folders. Pulling out the first picture, he was greeted by a pair of large, D-sized breasts.

"Jesus, Envy, can I not trust you in your plane at all?" Edward asked with a smile and uncomfortably tight pants.

"Come on. Besides, the woman those tits belong to, she's pretty good looking too." Envy replied as he pulled out another photo. "That's the girl." He said, pointing on the photo. Edward took it and his eyes practically bulged out at what he saw. The smirk he wore was gone, a look of disbelief was now etched on his scarred face.

"Admiral?" Hughes asked.

"Envy, where did you take this?" Edward asked slowly, turning the photo around.

"Remember that yacht I reported? Those men and women were onboard. Kept staring at me as if they had never seen an airplane before. And they aren't the only ones." Envy said as he ripped open the other envelope and spread out numerous photos. Edward stared at them all in shock. _Mustang, Hawkeye, the others, Rush Valley, Resembool, Alphonse, Hohenheim, Major Armstrong, Central City, the ruins of Ishval, Ft. Briggs..._ _Have I really come home?_

"Admiral Elric?" Hughes asked, snapping Ed out of his thoughts.

"Get on the radio. See what's out there."

"Comms have been switching through all the channels-"

"Change the radio freq's. See if that helps." After a moment,

"... _Fuhrer Roy Mustang has only commented on the strange machines spotted all over Amestris, saying that he has no idea what they are or where they came from. He has given an executive order, declaring that any future sightings be reported to Central Command immediately. Meanwhile, Drachman forces continue to assault Ft. Briggs..._"

"What the hell is all that about?" Bradley asked. Edward was rather stunned. Switching the radio off,

"Walk with me." He ordered. Within minutes the four men were on the outer deck off the bridge out in the cold air.

"Admiral, may I ask you a question? Are you putting us on? Putting the whole fleet on?" Bradley asked.

"No. I'm as surprised as you are, Commander."

"You've always told us that Amestris is real. The photo's I took, do they mean anything to you?" Envy asked.

"These men and women on the boat? These same men and women here in uniform? Two of them were my superior officers when I was in the State Alchemist program. This picture here... this guy is my brother, Alphonse Elric. This picture, the one of Rush Valley, it's practically a heaven for those with prosthetic limbs. The big wall? That is Fort Briggs, a near-impenetrable fortress at the northern region of Amestris, built to-"

"Explain another time, Admiral. What we need to know is, what are you going to do now?" Bradley interrupted.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to leave us to go home? When are you going to inform the fleet of what's happened? Everyone wants an explanation."

"I know. I wonder, how would the bastard respond to…" Edward suddenly left the railing and headed back in the bridge.

"Comm, send this message out on all radio channels, all radio frequencies. Message begins: This is the USS America, lead ship of Carrier Strike Group-21, flagship of the Navy of the United States of America. To anyone listening to this, please respond. Message ends."

"Roger that."

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in the air. Alert the chief of the deck I want my plane ready for take-off when I get down there. Bradley, you have the con." Edward ordered.

"Y-yes sir." Bradley responded, wondering just what the hell had gotten into the Fleet Admiral.

"Why the hell is he going up? It's not like we're under attack." Hughes muttered.

"I was with him at the Academy; he goes up in the sky just because he wants to be alone. He just needs some time to think." Envy explained.

"Did you make copies of the photo's you took? He took them with him." Bradley muttered.

"Yeah, I'll make some more."

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Force-21

A lone F/A-85 Mustang II fighter jet roared in the skies, high above the CAP. It was red in color, with laughing skulls painted all around it. Everyone knew it belonged to the Fleet Admiral. At the moment, Edward was busy flipping through the photographs, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. _So, I've made it back home. What the hell do I do? Should I contact Amestris? Let everyone know that I'm alive? But what would they think if they saw me as I currently am? Maybe I should bring them onboard the _America_. Let them see-no, that's a bad idea. Everyone on the ship, the whole damn fleet, knows what I've done. And almost all of them chalk them up to accomplishments instead of crimes. Were they necessary evils to end the war? Or was it just my bloodlust getting the better of me? And if they find out_..._ What the hell am I gonna do?_

Pulling out another photo, he stared deeply into it. It was a picture of Alphonse and Major Armstrong on the train that Envy had flown next to. The two were utterly shocked in the photograph, Edward couldn't blame them, however. When he saw his first fighter jet in the sky, he was stunned too. _And now I can fly them._ He thought to himself. As the aircraft continued to cut through the sky, he looked down at the photo again.

_No. I owe it to Al, and Winry, and everyone else. Even Mustang, the new Fuhrer. I owe it to all of them to let them know that I'm alive. Damn. What the hell am I gonna do about Hughes, Bradley, and Comstock? If they see my XO and CAG, they'll think I'm in league with the Homunculi. And I can't just very well assign them off my ship and keep them off until I leave. But what if I don't head back to the States? They'll find out eventually._

Breathing in deeply, Edward made his decision as he lined up his plane on the tail-boom of the F-27 Curtis tanker, his left hand subconsciously tracing the outline of a bottle of whiskey he kept next to the ejection handle.

_I've made my decision. And whatever the consequences are, I can handle them. I've handled a lot worse._

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

Central Command, Central City

Amestris

"Play the message again, Sgt. Fuery." Mustang ordered.

"_This is the USS America, lead ship of Carrier Strike Group-21, flagship of the Navy of the United States of America. To anyone listening to this, please respond._"

"Can we respond?"

"I think so. But the question remains who they are. Could they be related to those flying metal objects we saw yesterday?"

Mustang didn't respond. But he was curious like everyone else. After pondering for a moment, he picked up the headset.

"USS America, my name is Roy Mustang, Fuhrer of Amestris. We heard your broadcast and we are responding to your call."

"_Fuhrer Mustang, I have news: we know information concerning the disappearance of a young man some time ago from your country. Blonde hair, gold eyes, may or may not have had a metal prosthetic limb, somewhat short with a fiery temper? Does any of that ring a bell_?"

"Yes, that does." Mustang suddenly felt lightheaded.

"_Bring whomever and whatever you deem necessary to the coast. We are currently spotting a massive landmass not too far from our current position where our fleet is currently at. Once you're onboard, we'll deliver more information to you. And maybe you can tell us more about this world. You can say that we're lost."_

"Yes, that would be fine." Mustang replied, swallowing his dry throat. Putting the headset down,

"Get Alphonse and Mr. Hohenheim here on the double. I don't care what they're doing, bring them here now. Clear your schedules, we're going to the coast of Aerugo. Let's see what we're dealing with. If this contact really does know more about Edward's whereabouts, then we're gonna take it whatever information they may have, no matter the cost. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" His team saluted.

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Force-21

Off the coast of Aerugo...

"Well, looks like they bought it. Envy, Hughes, Bradley, listen to me very carefully. This is what I want all three of you to do..." Edward began as he stared out the canopy of his plane towards Aerugo. As he gave his orders, one thought crossed the young admiral's mind.

_Let's get this shit over with._

* * *

**My goal for this chapter was to drop small hints on the Fleet Admiral and the CAG, things they may have done in the past and how it's going to affect them presently. Let's just say that Edward's past in the United States Military is gonna come back to haunt him in future chapters and will present some serious moral challenges concerning him, his fleet and his friends and family in Amestris.**

**Keep in mind that Commander King Bradley and Lieutenant Commander John 'Envy' Comstock aren't homunculi, they are regular humans and officers in the United States Navy, in the world they came from. So that will definitely make some sparks fly between Admiral Elric and his former Amestrian comrades.**

**Next one will be up soon. (I hope)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Sorry to keep you waiting, but here it is, the next chapter of Fullmetal's War. Took me forever to write this, and I had to go back and rewrite several things because I didn't feel they were good enough. Hope everyone likes it, enjoy!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 2

May 3rd, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Rockbell &amp; Garfiel Automail Shop

"Son, I know Winry's an automail engineer, but do you think she could use lighter materials for her work?" Hohenheim sighed as he climbed up the stairs from the basement.

"Sorry dad, but you know how she is." Al responded, gently setting a box down on the floor.

"Well, I don't suppose you can blame her. So, how's the training been in Xing?"

"It's going great. I'm can't believe all the stuff I'm learning in that field. Later on today, I'm gonna be meeting with some medical-oriented alchemists and see what we can come up with…" As Al explained what his plans were, Hohenheim couldn't help but notice how close Al looked to his brother. He grew his hair out to the point where he required a ponytail, although he parted it on the side. His bangs framed the sides of his face, but only went to just past his eyes. He wore dark pants and black boots, and a similar dark jacket with a red coat over the top. Unlike his brother, however, he didn't wear gloves.

In the two years since Ed's disappearance, his body had taken some getting used to, but he was a very quick learner. Remembering his teacher's advice about staying in shape, he had taken the time to bulk up. Now, he was somewhat taller than Edward (last they saw him) and, although his build was slim, there was no denying the muscle on his body. Hohenheim would sometimes wonder who would win in a fist-fight between the two Elric brothers.

"I'm very proud of you, Alphonse. I just wish your brother was here to see your accomplishments." Hohenheim smiled sadly.

"So do I." Al replied.

The door suddenly opened to reveal Breda and Havoc.

"Get in the car, we're leaving now." Breda ordered.

"Why, what's going on?" Al asked.

"We've made contact with someone off the coast of Aerugo, they claim to have information concerning the disappearance of Ed." Al and Hohenheim immediately stared him.

"Let me get ahold of Winry, she needs to know-" Al began.

"The Fuhrer wants us to leave now." Breda cut the young man off, pushing him and his father outside the large building and into the awaiting car. Several military vehicles lined the streets.

"Do you think this contact has anything to do with those flying objects we saw yesterday?" Hohenheim asked.

"It's possible. But if this is a chance to find out what happened to Ed, we're gonna take it." Havoc replied, practically flooring the car to the train station. It was clear that Mustang really wanted to know what happened to the Fullmetal Alchemist, considering how rushed everything was. However, it was clear that he was not taking any chances, considering how many troops and equipment he brought. Two Rifle Companies plus the 2nd Armored Brigade meant a lot of firepower. He had no idea, however, that he stood absolutely _no_ chance against what he was going up against, even if he armed every alchemist in the country with a philosopher stone.

"Fuhrer Mustang, I don't mean to be rude, but what's with all the troops and equipment?" Al asked.

"I just don't want to take any chances. I'm not gonna lie, I'm nervous."

"Don't know what to expect?" Hohenheim asked.

"Yes."

"What did this contact say, exactly?" Al asked.

"The contact identified itself as USS America, flagship of what they called the Navy of the United States of America. That sounds like some sort of military arm for a country that we obviously haven't heard of. They claim to have information concerning the disappearance of a man from Amestris with gold eyes, blond hair, possibly a prosthetic limb and a fiery temper. That description fit anyone we know?" Riza asked with a soft smirk.

"Edward." Everyone in the cabin responded.

"I hope this isn't a prank call. I'm not going to pass this up. Any chance to find out where Edward went, we're gonna take it, regardless of the consequences." Mustang ordered.

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

Coast of Aerugo

"Well, we're here. So where's our contact?" Falman asked. The large Amestrian force was currently positioned at the beachhead, waiting for someone to come up to the shore. It didn't help that a large fog had settled in.

"Sgt. Fuery, are communications established?"

"Yes sir." Picking up the headset,

"USS America, is Fuhrer Mustang. I have a team at the coast, just like you asked. We are waiting further instructions. Will you be coming to the shore, or do you want us to come to you?"

"_Fuhrer Mustang, this is USS America. Stay put, we're sending a transport to bring you over. Bring only those that are absolutely necessary._"

"Understood." Everyone believed the transport would be a large boat of some sort. Several minutes later, they saw what it was: a massive CH-53 King Stallion chopper, flanked by two Apache gunships. Everyone stared at the massive craft as it slowly lowered to the ground, its large rotors sending dust everywhere. When the back door opened, several U.S. Marines came out holding AR-85 assault rifles. A man appeared in the middle. He was of an average height, a slim build, short cropped hair and a dark complexion showing his African heritage.

"Which one of you is Fuhrer Mustang?" he asked.

"I am! Roy Mustang, Fuhrer of Amestris!" Roy yelled, walking forward with his right hand out.

"Lt. Alex Mattherson! I have orders to fly you to the _America_! Bring only those necessary! Apparently the Fleet Admiral has taken quite an interest in all of you!"

"I heard you had some information concerning the disappearance of a young man from my country!"

"I don't, but the higher-ups do! Get onboard!" Alex yelled.

"General Mustang, Lieutenants Breda and Havoc, Sgt. Fuery, Cpt. Falman, Mr. Hohenheim and Mr. Elric, you're all with me! The rest stay behind!" Mustang yelled. Everyone selected followed Lt. Mattherson onboard the large craft, rather hesitantly though. No one could blame them. Once they were onboard,

"Pilot, take us back! Inform the admiral we're heading back to the _America_!"

"What is this _America_?" Havoc asked.

"It's an aircraft carrier, sir! Biggest one in the Navy!"

"A what?!"

"Just wait and see, you might understand!" after a moment,

"Does Amestris have an air force?" he asked.

"What's that?" Riza asked.

"Okay, let me simplify it for you, does your country have any vehicles capable of flight?"

"Just observation balloons we use to scout out enemy forces! Why do you ask?" Mustang replied.

"Okay, you're gonna shit your pants when you see the fleet, then!" Alex responded.

"Where is this fleet?" Alphonse asked.

"On the other side of all this fog!" once they passed through,

"There it is, take a look." Pointing out the large side panel, everyone got a good look at their destination.

"Holy shit." Mustang said, clearly stunned by what he saw. Everyone was. Below them was Carrier Strike Group-21. It was obvious that the Amestrians had never seen anything like it. As the helicopter flew closer to the _America_, the Amestrians could only think one thing: _How is all of this related to Edward_?

"USS America, this is transport #349, bringing in a Fuhrer Roy Mustang and his subordinates from Amestris. They want the information we have, over."

"_Roger that, I'll inform the Admiral. Chief of the deck wants you to land on elevator #5. He wants to rework the left engine, over._"

"Roger that, landing on elevator five." The pilot responded. "Excuse me, but when we get onboard, is it possible that I speak to your commanding officer as soon as we get onboard?" Roy called up to the cockpit. Taking a look to the left, he saw a blood red F-85 fly up next to the chopper. "Don't worry, he'll be there very soon." The pilot smirked, watching the jet fighter line up to land on the carrier.

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the coast of Aerugo

"I have never seen anything like this." Hohenheim muttered as he stared at the deck of the carrier. A large interceptor slowly backed into the elevator, causing the Amestrians to back away. All of them stared at the massive craft.

"This one looks similar to the ones we saw yesterday. Why is it red?" Alphonse asked. He never got his answer as the elevator moved down, bringing the two aircraft into the hanger deck.

"Where are we going?" Roy asked.

"The hanger deck. It's where we store all our planes and air vehicles. Just wait here, the man you want to see will be here soon, he's been informed of your arrival." The Lieutenant said, walking back into the helicopter.

"Well, that was helpful." Havoc muttered. The Amestrians simply stayed put where they were at, watching the various officers and deck crews move large airplanes about, slapping weapons on their hard points, removing vital components for repair, etc.

"The only thing that can come close to this is the R&amp;D department at Ft. Briggs. But even then, they still have nothing compared to this." Falman remarked.

"I'm not gonna wait here all day for the ship's commanding officer to arrive here. Excuse me…." Mustang flagged down a naval officer. "Is there a way I can talk to the ship's commanding officer, it's important I speak to him."

"Who are you looking for?" a muffled voice came from behind. A few of the Amestrians turned around to see a short man in a U.S. Navy flight suit sitting on the top rung of the ladder leading down from the cockpit. A black helmet decorated with white skulls adorned his head. A breathing mask was on, and the visor was down, completely obscuring the man's face.

"A... a friend of ours. We received word from this ship that they knew information concerning the disappearance of young man from our country. I was hoping I could speak to the ship's commanding officer." Roy said, eyeing the pilot.

"What does he look like? The person you're looking for?"

"Short, blond hair in a ponytail, gold eyes, has a prosthetic leg. He's actually my brother." Al said. The pilot said nothing.

"We've... I've been trying to find him for two years now. We came here because someone on board told us they had information about his disappearance. Please, if you or anyone else here knows what happened to him, please tell us." Al said, his voice was starting to break.

"Then answer this." The pilot said.

"What's that?"

The pilot bowed his head and undid his mask and removed his helmet.

"Miss me, cocksuckers?!" Edward Elric asked with a smirk as he stood up, tossing his helmet in the cockpit.

"BROTHER!" Alphonse yelled in delight, ignoring his brother's insult. Edward jumped off the ladder and the two Elric brothers hugged each other tightly, tears running down their faces.

"I thought you were gone." Alphonse sobbed.

"It's okay, Al, I'm here. You can't kill me that easily." Edward chuckled lightly. Al laughed at that, although he had no idea what the Fleet Admiral _really_ meant.

"What… what happened to you? What is all this?" Al asked.

"Believe me, little brother, I got one hell of a fucking story to tell you. I'd rather tell it someplace more quiet then the flight deck. Then after I explain everything, maybe I can give everyone the tour of my ship." Ed smiled.

"What do you mean your ship?" Mustang asked.

"You're talking to the captain of this ship! Hey Admiral, I got your ordinance package right here!" the deck chief yelled as he drove over a large dolly loaded down with ordinance. A _lot _of ordinance. The Amestrians had no idea what it all was, although Edward knew all too well.

"10 EI-3 Sidewinders, 10 HE-1 heat seeking missiles, 15 ARC-1 armor-piercing rockets, 950 20mm rounds, not to mention flares and chafe pods, Chief... what the fuck is all this?" Edward asked.

"You're ordinance, package, sir. Thought you'd need it since you went up in the air."

"Distribute it to the rest of the planes. I only went up because I needed to clear my head."

"Okay. What about Lt. Comstock, he's complaining that he's still stuck in the air."

"Tell him he's to stay up there until I say so. And he can forget about cannibalizing the old Harrier jets for their VTOL engines for his Thunderbird. Not my fault he illegally modified his plane for that purpose."

"Yeah, uses a plane meant strictly for the Air Force and converts it to naval use. Hell of a pilot, though. He'd probably give you a run for your money."

"That'll be the day." Edward laughed.

"You do realize everyone in the fleet is holding a bet to see who will win between the two of you in a dogfight."

"Just go distribute all this to the rest of the planes. Gotta explain something to my friends here. Oh, tell the sergeant over there that I want two Marines posted at the Conference Room. I don't want anyone disturbing me." Everyone noticed that when Edward gave his recent orders, there was a sense of a major authority that they didn't know was possible from the young man.

"Wait, you're the captain of this ship?" Mustang asked.

"Sure am. I helped to design and build this thing myself, which was major pain in the ass when I think about it."

"Didn't know they let such short men build a massive ship like this." Mustang said with a slight smirk.

"Hey asshole, ask any one of the pilots in the fleet, they'll tell you they _wish_ they were as short as me. Me being short, that's actually an advantage to being a fighter pilot in the Navy." Edward smiled when he said that. Mustang didn't have a comeback for that, which surprised everyone.

"Huh, so the famed Flame Alchemist, Fuhrer Sarcastic doesn't have a comeback? It must be a sign of the Apocalypse." Edward remarked.

"Okay, you got me there, Fullmetal. So, you gonna explain to us all what happened?"

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Mustang's Unit, Von Hohenheim, Alphonse Elric_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Edward Elric, Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes_

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Main Conference Room

Off the coast of Aerugo

(Some time later...)

Edward told them his history: His attempted Human Transmutation to bring Alphonse back, giving up his Alchemy, but the Truth demanding more. His being thrust into an alternate Earth, one where Alchemy was only a myth. How he was drafted into the Marine Corps, then signed up for the Navy SEALS. After that it was the Army Rangers, then the Green Berets, then the Delta Force. Then the Spetznaz and finally the SAS before he was finally sent out on his first mission. Then the next, then the next. After a while, his time in Japan to train his mind and learn the ways of the Samurai. Then his time in northern Siberia to learn the ways of the Ninja. His return to the States and transfer to the Navy, where he trained to be a fighter pilot and went through the Officer Candidate School. The beginning of World War III, that long, painful war that saw Edward climb the ranks to the top rung, Fleet Admiral of the Navy. And then...

"And that leads us to now. Any questions?" Edward asked as he popped a cigarette in his mouth. He was careful to leave some things out, like his so-called 'War Crimes' or 'Necessary Evils'. He also did _not_ mentioned Bradley, Envy and Hughes. Really, only what was necessary did he reveal. None of it was classified information, but even if it was, he was back home at Amestris. Whether it was classified or not didn't matter, at least in the Admiral's mind. Still, he knew what was important to reveal and not to reveal.

"Yeah, when did you take up smoking?" Havoc asked.

"When did you take it up?" Edward replied, flicking on his lighter. Standing up, he unzipped his upper suit and pulled it off his torso, wrapping it around his waist. Underneath, he wore a white t-shirt that said 'U.S. Navy' in blue, which clung very well to his muscular torso. His _very _muscular torso. Everyone could see his tattoo on his neck, his prosthetic right arm, part of the Spetznaz tattoo and the US Army Ranger tattoo on his arm. They saw a few small cuts adorning his flesh arm, but they didn't pay them any mind. _Probably got them during his battles. _was the general consensus from everyone's minds.

"What's with the tattoos?" Hohenheim asked.

"They're the logos of various Special Forces units I served in. The Spetznaz, which are Russian Special Forces, and the United States Army Rangers. They're just a couple I trained and fought with. The one on my neck is the Marine Corps, one of the main branches of the military I served in."

"So, after your stint with these Special Forces, you were transferred to the Navy to be a fighter pilot, and you rose the ranks ever since?" Riza asked. That wasn't the whole truth; Edward had kept a large portion out. "Essentially, yes. Some things happened, and I asked to be assigned to the Navy instead. Made my way to the rank of Fleet Admiral. And being the highest ranking officer in the military, you get to choose your own flagship. I originally wanted the _Enterprise_, but that was destroyed during the early years, so I decided to have the _America_ built instead. So, you guys still wanna see the rest of the ship?" Edward asked.

"One last question. You've said that your rank is Fleet Admiral of the Navy. I'm just curious-" Roy started to ask.

"It's the same as Fuhrer of Amestris, but I command more soldiers."

"How many more?" Fuery asked.

"At any given moment, the total amount would be around 5 ½ million men and women. And that's just in the United States military alone." Just as Edward grabbed the door handle,

"Hey Edward?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"What... what do you think the Truth meant when he said you're suffering has only begun? After you tried to bring me back after you defeated Father?" Al asked. The room went quiet after that. Inhaling his cigarette, Edward subconsciously rubbed the large scar where his prosthetic met his flesh. _Sick fucks, think they could take my arm like that. They deserved what they got._ Edward thought to himself. Quickly banishing those thoughts away,

"I don't know. Maybe it's best that... That we don't know what he meant. So, you guys wanna see what I built?" Edward asked with a smirk. That's when the door slammed open.

"YO, ED, MY MAN! Is it true the well-endowed blonde our CAG took pictures of earlier, you brought onboard to service you?" Lt. Col. Hughes asked with a mischievous smirk on his face.

"No Hughes, she's the wife of the Fuhrer, I didn't bring her onboard to service me." Edward sighed.

"Oh, I see. You're gonna have a threesome with the Fuhrer and his wife then, is that right?"

"I'D RATHER SWALLOW MY DESERT EAGLE THAN SLEEP WITH THAT FUCKING BASTARD! WEREN'T YOU LISTENING?!" Edward yelled. Slamming the door open again,

"Why didn't you two stop him?!" Edward bellowed.

"He threatened to show us his pictures of his wife and daughter. Again." One of the Marines muttered.

"PUT A FUCKING ROUND IN HIS KNEE THE NEXT TIME HE DOES SO!" Edward yelled, slamming the door shut.

"Best of the best, my ass. Semper fucking Fi, what a bunch of bullshit. So, what the hell do you want, Hughes?" Edward sighed, collapsing on the chair whilst pulling out his flask. When he landed on the chair, he used his momentum to allow his right leg to fly up onto the table. He now had a slightly slouching, somewhat bored look to himself.

"Wanted to say hello to your friends here, Hi, I'm-"

"Maes Hughes." Roy said rather slowly.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, sir, have we met before?" Hughes asked, putting his right hand in his jacket. No-one noticed the Admiral scoot his chair closer to the table-to grip the M240 LMG he had bolted to the underside of the table. Quietly flipping the safety off, Edward simply waited for the wrong thing to happen. Roy struggled to say something. The rest of Mustang' were stunned to see Hughes alive as well.

"Dad, what was that theory you were working on? Something about alternate worlds and people living on them?" Al asked. This caught the two Naval officer's attention.

"What theory?" Edward asked.

"My theory is that within the Gate, there is a passage way that leads to an alternate world. A world similar to ours, and yet different at the same time. People living in this world could be the same in an alternate world. Does that help at all?" Hohenheim asked. _Just like what Commander Bradley explained to us_. Hughes and Edward thought to themselves.

"I think it does. In this world, Maes Hughes was an Investigations officer in the Amestrian military. In the world this ship came from, the world I told you about, Maes Hughes is an operations officer in the Navy. So that brings the question: since alchemy doesn't exist on the other side of the gate, how the fuck is it possible to create a transmutation circle in choppy waters in a storm large enough to swallow a whole fleet of military warships? And without using alchemy?" Edward asked.

"I don't know, son. How your ships... Were brought to our world from the other side is a mystery at the moment."

"Well, no use crying over spilled milk. Wanna see the rest of the ship? Rumor has it that when Edward helped build it, he spilled enough blood during its construction that they're actually related to each other." Hughes smiled. Edward sighed heavily.

"It really wasn't that much blood, Hughes, not that much."

"Not that much? Sir, you had to be put into a coma for 6 weeks after that fall. Because of your abnormal blood-type, we had to synthesize your blood, and enough of it to get back to good shape!" Hughes replied.

"It was just a little fall, you guys made way too much a big deal over it!"

"Sir, you fell a distance of 175 ft and _impaled _yourself on the lower keel! If you had just been wearing your harness, the whole thing could have been avoided!"

"I don't like wearing the damn things because they're too constricting and they always squeeze my junk the wrong way!" Edward snapped, leaving an awkward silence in the room.

"You guys wanna see the rest of the ship or not?" Edward asked, hoping to get out of this bad situation. _Hughes, you're gonna get it, big time._ He thought angrily to himself.

"One question, what's a Desert Eagle?" Riza asked. Edward simply unholstered his large .50 cal handgun and rather carelessly tossed it on the table.

"Jeez, is that thing even loaded?" Riza asked as she grabbed it. The very first thing that surprised her was the weight.

"Is this the standard side-arm for your military?" she asked. "Sure is. The size of the bullet should speak for itself." Edward replied. Riza ejected the clip and unchambered the round, catching the spare bullet as she did so. Taking a look at the bottom of the round, her eyes went wide.

"Why do you need a .50 caliber handgun?"

"If you only knew the shit I've had to kill, you'd know." Edward replied with a somewhat evil smirk.

* * *

"So this is the hanger deck. It's where we house all our planes, helicopters, and gunships. Along with the spare parts, fuel, and ordinance they need."

"Ordinance?" Al asked.

"Weapons. Armor piercing, high incendiary rounds for the cannons, air-to-air missiles, air-to-ground and air-to-sea missiles, AP, HI and high explosive rockets, laser guided bombs, napalm weaponry, biological and chemical weapons of mass destruction, tactical and strategic nuclear weapons, you name it, we got it onboard. And these pilots are the best of the best." Edward said somewhat proudly. The hanger deck was nothing new to Edward. But to his brother, father and former comrades, they were simply stunned by it.

"Yeah, never seen anything like this before, have you?" The Admiral asked after a moment of silence.

"No. None of us have." Hohenheim said.

"Well, it's a pretty common sight in the world I came from. Well, if you're in the military, that is. Most of the countries of Earth have a Navy, but the United States has the biggest and the best. And they're the only one with a ship like this."

"So how many planes do you have onboard?" Fuery asked.

"Well, this particular ship carries 300 various aircraft. I have 10 other aircraft carriers with me, each of them holding 95."

"So that gives you a total of-"

"1,250 air vehicles. We can do a lot with that."

"Such as?" Mustang inquired.

"Well, let me break it down by aircraft. Gunships, like the Apaches and Cobras, they're meant to provide close air support for ground forces. Those suckers pack a nasty punch. 5 machine guns, 15 missile and rocket pods, not to mention they're tough to kill. The Seahawk, Huey and Stallion helicopters, such as the one that flew you all here, they mostly transport personal and cargo, although they can be used to drop soldiers into a hotspot. They're very useful when it comes for Humanitarian missions, such as delivering food, medical supplies and such to those that need it. The big plane over there with the large circular dome on top, we call that an E-2. It acts as an early warning array for the fleet. If our RADAR and scanners are down for whatever reason, or if we need to see farther ahead, we send those birds up. The big circular dome on top helps to expand our eyes.

Now, the real fun toys we get to play with are the fighter jets. I have three different birds on the carriers: The mainstay fighter of the Navy, the F-85 Mustang II, the F-21 Thunderbird, the large black plane you saw hover in the sky yesterday, that one is normally reserved for the Air Force, and the A-10 Thunderbolt II, which I've had modified for use onboard a Carrier.

The Mustang is our primary fighter of the Navy, serves as a dogfighter/interceptor. Meaning, if we see a bad guy far out and we need to take him down, we send these guys up first. The forward-swept wings help it achieve take-off quicker than most birds, and the big-ass laser cannon on the back gives it more firepower than other planes it's same size. As you all saw earlier, I fly my own version also.

The F-21 Thunderbird, that's more of a multi-role fighter. It's mostly for the Air Force, but our CAG, Comstock, he prefers to fly that so I had to pull some strings to have one modified for use onboard this ship. It can serve as a dogfighter, an interceptor, a bomber, or even a spy plane, as you all saw yesterday. It's the fastest plane I have, but not the most maneuverable, but in the hands of Comstock, it's a very deadly plane to face down. I wouldn't want to go head-to-head against him in this unless I had no other choice.

The last plane I mentioned is the A-10 Thunderbolt. That ugly hunk of metal over there. It's actually the most durable plane I have onboard, they're almost impossible to shoot down. And they're among the most popular among the military, they've been in service for around 100 years. They're sluggish, incredibly slow, but very solid and pack a very hard punch. They serve along with the gunships in an attack role to help my soldiers on the ground, and they do their job very well."

"They must be doing something right to be used for 100 years." Falman commented, staring at the A-10. Edward decided to show them something.

"Chief, take the Avenger out of _221_! I wanna show my friends something!" Edward yelled. Large robotic arms lowered from the ceiling to carefully cradle the craft as it was lifted off the deck. A large flat-bed truck drove underneath as the technicians slowly dismounted the massive cannon from the fuselage of the plane. Once it was off, Edward motioned for the truck to move to where he was standing. Once it was parked in front of the Amestrians, they all stared at the massive cannon.

"Biggest gun ever installed on a fixed-wing aircraft. Fires a 30mm shell that will destroy whatever it touches." Edward said with a smirk.

"Okay, why do you have the need for such a big gun?" Havoc asked, his cigarette falling out of his mouth.

"Let me put it to you all like this: The _USS America_, first and foremost, is a warship, and that's all she will ever be. That's what it's made for, what I built it for. To win a war by any means necessary. If one of those means is an aircraft with a 30mm cannon, then so be it. But although my planes are my first line of defense and offense, that's not all. The ship itself has some pretty impressive weaponry onboard as well."

"Like what?" Mustang asked.

"Nothing special, really. Gatling guns, air-to-air missiles, laser cannons, some flak cannons and rail guns, nothing real special." Edward replied.

"What do you mean, laser cannons?" Breda asked.

"What, you want me to show you guys?"

"YES!" came the reply. Edward was now getting a little suspicious: Despite that (aside from Alphonse and Hohenheim) his friends were in the military, he couldn't help but wonder: Why were they so keen, all of a sudden, on seeing the weapons of his ship?

* * *

"Okay, this is what we call the _Laser Weapon System_, or LaWS, for short. Doesn't use projectiles, no bullets, no missiles, no shells, nothing. Shoots off an infrared beam that can penetrate through any sort of armor or plating we set our eyes on. Depending on how hot we make the beam, it can either make a man sweat like crazy, or burn a hole through the armor plating of a battleship."

"What does the laser look like? The color?" Mustang asked.

"Human eyes can't see it. Not normal ones anyway. So technically, there is no color."

"Do you mind if we see a demonstration?" Riza asked. Edward paused on that. The only real items worthy of using the laser against were the ships and vehicles in his fleet, and there was no way he was going to fire on his own assets. He looked at his arm, and began to wonder...

"Yeah. I'll give you a demonstration. Ensign, the far turret over there, point it at my arm, see if you can't heat it up a bit." Edward ordered a technician.

"Sir?"

"That's an order." Edward responded, raising his right arm. Accessing the controls, the Ensign did as he was told and turned the far laser turret around and pointed it at the Admiral's right arm. In a few seconds, Edward's arm started to glow red hot. Slowly, but surely. Soon, his entire arm was a glowing color of red mixed with orange. Everyone's eyes went wide at that. One thing was on their mind: _How can he bear that sort of pain?_

"Turn it off. That's just one of the uses for the laser. And don't worry, we got plenty of prosthetics onboard, I'll be fine." Edward re-assured.

"So, these lasers can burn straight through your arm?" Al asked.

"Through anything, really. They're very cheap and easy to maintain, and easy to fire also. The problem is they're expensive to manufacture, and on a more personal note, I prefer the railguns. They fire a slug that weighs about 23 pounds and is only 25 inches long. They're different from other shells in the fact that they don't have an explosive; they don't need one. Their speed is what helps them destroy their target. They reach up to speeds of 8,500 miles per second. When they hit... Well, let's just say nothing is going to survive the impact. And they have one hell of a range. Hell, I could probably hit Ft. Briggs with one of my railguns from out here, and General Armstrong wouldn't have any idea what hit her. You know, if she survived the bombardment." Edward muttered. It was during this time that technicians had come out to remove the damaged arm and replace it with a fresh one.

"You really think you could hit Ft. Briggs from out here?" Roy asked.

"I believe so. If the guns can't make it, I can just send my fighters out there to bomb it. Or I could just launch some cruise missiles, maybe a few Inter-Continental Ballistics... Trust me on this: If there's a target out there, we'll find it and we'll kill it. There's nothing that can hide from us." Edward said with a rather evil grin on his face.

* * *

"This here is the bridge. It's like the brain of the ship. We can monitor everything concerning the vessel from here. Launching of aircraft, the temperature in the rec room, whether our engines are gonna overheat, weapons systems, communications between another ship and a landmass; hell, we can even check the condition of every other ship in my battle group from here." Edward smirked. The bridge of the ship was rather large and spacious, but also very defensible in that there were several mini-gun turrets protruding from the ceiling and walls. A massive bulletproof window was located at the front of the room that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. Behind the window, at the front of the bridge was a shiny, jet black Ship's Wheel that stood on its own. Like so many other items on the ship, there were white skulls adorning it, along with orange flames decorating the contraption. On the front of the mount were the words, 'Metallica Rules!' in white. On the ceiling was the Star Spangled Banner, facing down towards the crew of the bridge.

A walkway divided the room, and on each side of the walkway were several computer consoles slightly sunken into the deck. All over the walls were racks filled with assault rifles, SMG's and short-barreled shotguns, along with the necessary ammunition. Near the rear of the bridge, was a circular platform raised up above the rest of the deck where the ship's commanding officer-in this case, Admiral Elric-oversees the operations of his bridge crew. On the platform were two steel poles that raised up from the deck that had a glass screen in between them. A console was in the middle of the glass screen.

"You can check the condition of the rest of your ships? From here? How do you do that?" Kain asked, very shocked at the bridge.

"Watch. Lieutenant Ryerson, gimme the latest update on my ships, will ya? Send it up here."

"All yours, sir." The officer replied, tossing up a flash drive. Plugging the drive into the console, Edward typed in a few commands. Suddenly, a massive holo-screen appeared and various images and screens appeared in front of Edward, seemingly out of nowhere, stunning the Amestrians. Various images hovered in front of the young Admiral, all showing different items concerning the various ships in the fleet. Weapons systems, hull integrity, temperature, etc. Edward pressed his right hand to the large holo-screen and began to, rather lazily, sweep it to the right, bring up new images, new information concerning the various ships under his command. What stunned the Amestrians the most was that it was all see through.

"What, what is all that?" Breda asked.

"Know what a hologram is?" Edward asked.

"A what?" came the collective reply.

"Never mind. Won't bother explaining it to you lot. Too advanced."

"What do you...? Edward, what year is it on the other side of the gate?" Hohenheim asked.

"What's the year now?" Edward asked, his eyes focused on the screen.

"1917."

"Okay. Here's some food for thought: Here, the year is 1917. I, along with this fleet of warships, just came from the year 2062. I was over there for 15 years ever since I disappeared from Amestris. Think about that." Edward replied as he began to, rather rapidly, scroll through the various information of his ships.

"15 years. So, that would... that would make you..." Riza started slowly.

"I'm a 32 year old man in the body of a 16 year old teenager." Came the smug reply. The Amestrians were floored by what they just heard. Most of them had to literally sit down on the floor.

"You were on the other side for 15 years. You're 32 years old. And this ship... This is from the future. Way in the future." Alphonse gasped.

"Sure is. Hey Al, get up here." Edward gestured. Slowly, the younger Elric walked up to his older-very older-brother.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Hold this for me, will ya? Thank you." Edward muttered as he handed over a holographic image of the _USS George Washington_'s 3rd ARC-81 missile launcher. His manner of speech was as if Edward was giving Al an apple to hold, and not a piece of extraordinarily advanced technology. Al gingerly held the object in his hand, completely mystified by what he was beholding.

"It... I can see through it clearly. But it... Feels so real. So... so real." Al began to slowly, _very_ slowly, turn the image around in his hands.

"Yeah. Holographic technology is pretty cool, don't you think?" Edward smirked as he shut the imager down. And with it, the screen vanished away, along with the image of the missile launcher that Alphonse was holding in his hands.

"Admiral, we need your help on the configuration of the IM-81 Laser Cannon!" a young ensign yelled. Edward hopped the railing and walked over to the Weapons panel, leaving everyone else behind. As Edward convened with his officer, the Amestrians continued to stare in amazement at the bridge. While the technology absolutely baffled them, what really stopped their minds was the fact that their friend, son, and brother was now 32 years old.

"How can that be? Him, being 32 years old? He's only been gone for two years. He doesn't even look 32." Mustang wondered.

"It's possible that there was some sort of transition of time. Two years on our side and fifteen years on the other side. Imagine what he's seen over there. The knowledge he may have learned, we could have a real opportunity to learn more about the other side of the gate-" Hohenheim was interrupted.

"The only thing on the other side of the gate you'll find is death and hell. Trust me, you don't want to know what's on the other side." Came the very stern voice of the Fleet Admiral.

"So, did you gain super-hearing over there as well?" Mustang joked.

"Ah, enough about me. I wanna know what's happened to all of you since I left." Ed said, jumping the _12_ feet up and over the guardrail onto the platform like it was absolutely nothing. Again, they were stunned. They knew that Edward was in very good physical shape, at least the last time they saw him. But for him to jump up into the air 12 feet and over a somewhat tall railing also...

"Just so you know, that was with my right leg, not my left one." There was that smirk again. Not his prosthetic leg, but his _flesh and blood_ leg had propelled him upwards of 12 feet.

"You mind teaching me how you did that?" Al asked.

"I can try. But maybe another time. Like I said, I wanna know what's happened since I left."

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Main Conference Room

(A few hours later...)

The sound of laughter could be heard from the conference room. Oddly enough, the conversation did _not _turn to what happened to Amestris since Edward left. At the beginning, yes. But, somewhat quickly, the subject turned to all the pranks and trouble that Edward had gotten into during his time on Earth. Nothing concerning World War III was ever released, however, nor his time in the field. Rather, it was just tales of what he did with his old war buddies when there was no fighting. And he had a _lot_ of them.

"Yeah, that's what happened. After Joe and I got done serran-wrapping the General's Humvee, somehow he found out and we got one hell of a punishment. Sure am glad it wasn't you, Mustang, or the 5th Barracks probably would've went up in flames." Edward snickered.

"Dang, Brother, even in an alternate world, you're always looking for trouble." Al replied.

"Hey, you can't blame me. On the weekends when there was no fighting, and I didn't feel like wasting rounds on thin air, my buddies and I would either go out on the town, get drunk, get laid, and have one interesting story to tell to our CO as he bailed us outta jail, or we'd just go prank the higher-ranked officers. It was usually a mix of both. Havoc, you taking notes?" Ed asked. The Amestrian lieutenant was definitely taking notes.

"Um, no." he replied, shoving the pocketbook into his coat.

"What, plan on pranking the Fuhrer? Might wanna watch out for the Hawk's Eye, though. If she's as good as everyone says she is with a sniper rifle-" the door opened up to reveal a young officer with a stern face.

"Admiral Elric, we got something on the Comm you might wanna hear."

"Can you funnel it down here?"

The officer said nothing. Instead, he whispered something in the Admirals' ear while placing a manila folder on the table.

"Fuhrer Mustang, were you supposed to have a meeting with an Emperor Ling Yao of the country of Xing, along with General Armstrong and several high-ranking officers of the Amestrian Armed Forces?" Edward asked, the officer leaving the room. Roy looked like he shit his pants.

"Goddammit! I completely forgot about that meeting!" he cursed.

"How important is it?" Edward asked.

"It's really important. It has to do with our conflict with Drachma."

"How long as it been going on? Judging from the amount of damage Ft. Briggs has suffered from, not to mention all the dead bodies on the Drachman side of the wall, I would guestimate that it's been going on for quite a while now." Edward rather correctly assumed.

"How do you know about the conflict?" Roy asked.

"We have the ability to hack into and listen to any radio transmission we can catch onto. That's how I know of this meeting and of the war."

"It's very important. Emperor Yao wanted to discuss with me the possibility of sending in his troops to the northern borders to help repel the Drachman forces. Dammit, General Armstrong's gonna kill me." Roy said, visibly distressed.

"Need a bodyguard? I can lend a couple of Marines to protect you." Edward said with a calm smile. As if on point, two heavily armed United States Marines walked in.

"Armstrong's good, but my Marines are better. Ooh-rah?"

"Ooh-rah!" the two soldiers barked back. Amusement was in their voice, however, and Edward couldn't help but snicker. Edward seemed to have noticed something on one of the Marines because he stood up and held his right hand out. The smile on his face was gone, replaced with determination. Everyone wondered how often they would see that side of Edward.

"Gimme the rifle, leatherneck." The Marine removed the magazine and racked the bolt, ejecting the round.

"Okay, I can send you back. Only to the coast, though. I'd rather keep my fleet a secret for now, so please don't tell anyone about us. It's not that I don't trust you, it's that I can't risk information about what's floating off the coast of Aerugo to reach enemy ears." During this, Edward was heavily focused on taking apart the assault rifle and putting it back together at a speed that made even Riza jealous.

"Private Simcoe, I don't want to see the stock of your weapon modified like this again. You get stuck with this configuration in combat, bad things will happen. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

Noticing the folder, Ed picked it up and opened it.

"Dad, here are the pictures of the Transmutation Circle that sent Strike Group-21 to the other side of the portal. Mind if you take a look at it, see what you can make of it?" Ed asked, handing is father the folder.

"Of course, son. I'm sure your brother and I can figure out what happened." Hohenheim said as the papers were given to him.

"Take your time, I'm in no real rush. Just remember that it appeared on rough, choppy waters during a storm in a world where alchemy is a myth, it doesn't exist."

"Do you have any more information that could help us? Like the conditions that surrounded your fleet when the circle appeared? Maybe things that happened before?" Al asked.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you, Al." noting the confused look on his brothers face, "It means I can't reveal it to you, that's highly classified information. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." Edward said with a smile. Everyone chuckled at that, but everyone noticed that Edward was resting his right hand on the holster of his Desert Eagle.

"Okay. Dad and I can look at this later on today."

"You might wanna try tomorrow. Unless you two are gonna pull an all-nighter trying to figure out that circle." Edward said, glancing at his watch.

"What makes you say that?" Havoc asked, stubbing out his cigarette.

"It's 8 PM right now. Your helicopter should be fueled and ready to go. Come on, I'll escort you to the deck." Edward gestured. When they got to the deck, they found that the time was indeed right. The blue, slightly cloudy sky was gone, replaced by the beauty of the dark night sky, thousands upon thousands of stars shining brightly up above. Edward inhaled deeply.

"I don't know why, but I love the night sky." He muttered to himself as he led his guests to the awaiting helicopter.

"Since we don't have a clear shot to Central City, not to mention the fact that my pilots have no idea where it is, they're just gonna take you to the beach head. I'm sorry, but you'll have to make your way back from there!" Edward said loudly over the hum of the crafts engine.

"That's perfectly fine!" Roy replied.

"You sure you don't want any bodyguards in case Olivia tries to kill you?" Edward joked.

"I'll be fine. But thanks for the offer."

"Don't tell your wife I said this, but they're 100 times better than Riza when it comes to shooting!"

"Maybe we should have a contest!"

"Prepare to be sorely disappointed!" Edward smirked. Roy couldn't help but chuckle at that. When everyone got onboard, Edward hugged his younger brother one last time.

"I'm sorry I left." Ed whispered.

"It's okay, Ed. You're back, that's all that matters." Al whispered back.

"Admiral, hate to interrupt, but we gotta get going." The chopper pilot stated. Reluctantly, the two Elric brothers, the Alchemist and the Admiral, let go of each other. Edward continued to stare at the helicopter as it flew away until it disappeared from view. Just about everyone on the ship would say this was the first time they saw their Admiral rather happy, with a bit of a glow about him. One question remained on Edward's mind, though: _how long can I keep my past hidden until they find out? And what will they think me if they do find out?_

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

Central City Command Center

Central City, Amestris

"Fuhrer Mustang, is something wrong?" Major Armstrong asked. The Fuhrer had been rather distracted ever since he returned from the USS America. At the moment, he was in a meeting with the two Armstrongs, most of the higher ranking generals of the military, Emperor Ling, Scar and a few other Ishvalans that represented the People of Ishval. Most of the meeting was about the current war with Drachma, the rebuilding of Ishval, whether Ling should move his troops to the northern border to help Amestris, etc. For once, he was glad about the war: It had stalled the meeting so it had to be moved to the evening. Olivia stayed at Ft. Briggs until Major Miles persuaded her to head to Central to discuss a new strategy. Due to the war, the rebuilding of Ishval had slowed tremendously, and Scar and other high-ranked Ishvalans had been busy doing what they could to rebuild their country. And because of rumors of Drachman terrorists threatening to blow up the railroad connecting Xing and Amestris, the trip had taken longer than usual for the Emperor to arrive.

However, he found it hard to concentrate as his mind was on other things. _Edward doesn't have the use of alchemy, but that didn't stop him from rising the ranks to the highest rank in the United States military. He commands a fleet of ships that I still can't fathom, even though I've seen it up close. I actually walked onboard his ship, his... Aircraft carrier... I still can't believe such a vessel exists. I still can't believe he's 32 years old._

"I'm sorry, major?"

"You seem distracted. Is there anything we should know?" Scar asked. Just as Roy was about to respond, a familiar noise was heard.

"Again?" Olivia asked. Everyone left the conference room and walked onto the balcony where they saw an E-2 Hawkeye and three F-85 Mustangs flying overhead. Despite the night sky, the planes were still well seen. Roy and Riza couldn't help but smile at that. Unfortunately, the others saw.

"Is there something you know that we don't, Fuhrer Mustang?" an Ishvalan asked.

_He wants me to keep his fleet a secret, yet he has the gall to fly his planes over our heads. And that's AFTER he asked that request for me. You might hate me, Fullmetal, but I can't keep this a secret forever. The sooner they know, the better. And damn the consequences._

"Close the doors. There's something I need to tell you." Roy ordered. Once the main doors were closed and non-essential personal were escorted out, leaving only the Armstrongs, Scar, and Ling...

"I know where those planes came from. Everyone remembers Edward Elric, right? The Fullmetal Alchemist?" the mood darkened a little bit. Everyone was rather disheartened to learn that Ed had disappeared in his attempt to bring Al back.

"Yes. He did a lot to save... To save our country. But does he have to do with those flying objects that we've been seeing the past two days?" Scar asked.

"Edward's alive."

"What?!" came the collective response.

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Rockbell &amp; Garfiel Automail Shop

Al and Hohenheim stood at the front door of the large, ornately decorated building.

"So what are we gonna tell Winry and everyone else?" Al asked.

"I think we should tell them the truth. Let things unfold after that. I think it'll all happen for the best, son." Hohenheim re-assured Al, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"So, what about that Transmutation Circle? Not the biggest one we've seen, but definitely different."

"Yes. If what he said was true... I think we've got our work cut out for the next few days." Hohenheim said as Al slammed his knuckles on the wooden door. The door opened up, revealing a smiling May Chang.

"Alphonse! Mr. Hohenheim, where have you two been?"

"It's a... long story, May. A very long story." Al said somewhat sheepishly as the three walked in, Hohenheim dropping the folder on the coffee table as he headed towards the main dining room, mentally promising himself to look at it later.

* * *

(Some time later...)

"Ms. Rockbell, has anyone told you, you make very delicious apple pie?" Hohenheim said as he collapsed on the couch. Winry blushed at that.

"Thank you. Well, a few people have."

"By a few people, she means every customer she's worked with back at Rush Valley." Paninya smiled.

"So, Al, Mr. Hohenheim, you gonna tell us where you two have been all day?" Winry asked. Everyone wanted to know that. The two breathed in deeply.

"Well... Okay. We..." Al found it rather hard to breath and his throat became dry. _Why is this so hard? So what if your brother is 32 years old, that he can't use alchemy, and he's in command of a large fleet of warships off the coast of Aerugo? Just tell them the truth, they'll understand. Yeah right, how could they understand that when I'm still having a hard time believing it all?_ Alphonse mustered up what courage he could and opened his mouth when the sound of four United States Navy airplanes flew overhead. Everyone ran outside to see a single Hawkeye and three Mustangs' fly overhead.

"Al? Are those thing new weapons for the military?" Winry asked.

"Not the Amestrian military." Al said with a smile.

"If not Amestris, then who do they belong to?" Pinako asked.

"Let's take this inside, it'll be more comfortable there." Hohenheim replied. Once everyone was inside the main living room,

"Off the coast of Aerugo, there's a large fleet of military warships, some of which have the ability to launch airplanes in the sky like the ones we just saw. That's where Dad and I were most of today. We went there because... They contacted Fuhrer Mustang earlier today, claiming they had information we wanted. Information concerning Brother." This caught everyone's attention, especially Winry.

"What... what did they have to say?" she asked.

"Edward's alive." Winry audibly gasped at that.

"Edward... Edward's alive?" she said as tears threatened to spill over.

"Yes. Yes, he's alive. When... When he tried to bring me back, the Truth sent him away to another world, one on the other side of the Gate. But... he's back. Edward's alive, Winry." Al said with tears in his eyes. Winry quickly hugged the younger Elric, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Al. Thank you." She sobbed.

"Izumi, could you help me decipher this?" Hohenheim asked. Opening the folder, he pulled out the papers inside.

"What is it?" Izumi asked.

"These are the drawings of the Transmutation Circle that sent Edward here. If we can figure out how it works, we might be able to open up the Gate again."

"Open it again? Why would he do that?"

"Remember my theory about another world on the other side of the Gate? It seems to me that the arrival of these ships proves that I'm right. Why would he open the gate? I think he wants to send his ships home. Back to the world they came from." Hohenheim said, staring at the front of the folder.

"Would he leave with them? Or would he stay?" Sig asked.

"I don't know."

"Al... is there a way we can see him tomorrow?" Winry asked.

"I'll asked Mustang to see if we can call him up. But I don't think Edward would say no." Winry hugged Al tightly. _Brother's gonna be very excited to see Winry again... But what is his reaction gonna be when he finds out about... Dang it, what are we gonna do about this?_

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Central Command Center, Fuhrer's Residence

"Having trouble sleeping?" Riza asked.

"I'm still having trouble accepting everything we just learned today. And I can tell that the rest of the staff had a hard time accepting it also. But they could tell I was telling the truth, though." Roy sighed.

"Can you blame them?" Riza asked, softly licking her husband's neck as she slid her hand down Roy's chiseled stomach to his crotch. Likewise, he responded immediately. Physically, but not mentally.

"If someone had told me, two years after Edward disappeared, that he came back as a 32 year old man with the rank of Fleet Admiral of the Navy in command of a fleet of ships that we can't even begin to fathom, I would've called them crazy. If it wasn't for those planes flying overhead, the staff probably would have. And now, they want to see the ship for themselves."

"So what are you gonna do?" Riza asked.

"Contact Edward tomorrow morning as see if we can come onboard again. I wanna talk to him, see if he can help us with Drachma."

"Well, he did say his guns can hit Ft. Briggs from where he's currently at, not to mention he was able to fly his planes over the border."

"Makes me wonder what other kind of weapons he has with him." Roy muttered. He suddenly sat up in the bed, his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Riza asked, concerned for her husband.

"What's Ed gonna think if he ever finds out about... You know?" Riza knew what the Fuhrer was referring to.

"It's been two years, Roy. I'm sure he'll understand." _I sure hope he does. _Mustang thought.

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Coast of Aerugo

Admiral Elric stood on the railing outside the main bridge, letting the cold air fill his lungs.

"Well, now that the Strike Group knows where we are at, we can figure out how to get home." Edward sighed.

"Well, I appreciate that you informed the captains. But do you think they believe you?" Bradley asked.

"Doesn't matter, as long as they follow my orders, everything will be fine."

"So, mind explaining why you wanted Bradley and me to stay outta the picture?" Envy asked, in a rather angry mood. Being stuck in the air for almost a whole day left Envy in a rather sour mood. No-one blamed him, however.

"Comstock, you and Bradley were enemies here in Amestris. Homunculi, to be exact."

"Oh, those invincible super-soldiers you told us about." Envy replied, scratching his neck.

"They weren't invincible, but yeah, that's pretty much what they were. And you two were enemies of the State of Amestris."

"You're gonna have to explain it to them eventually. You can't keep shuffling us around the fleet forever." Bradley reminded.

"I know, Commander. I know. I'm just afraid what might happen. If it gets into a fight..."

"We know what you're capable of, Ed. They don't. That'll present a problem for Amestris if we do get into a shooting war, not to mention they don't have an air force of any kind." Envy remarked.

"So what's the plan?" Hughes asked.

"First thing's first. Here, send that information down to the engine room, modifications to the nuclear reactors along with the environmental systems and the main and backup EPS systems." Edward gave a data-pad to Hughes. After reviewing it,

"What sort of modifications are these?"

"If I'm right, they'll modify the ships hull and the air itself. It will prevent anyone from using alchemy and alkahestry of any sort onboard my vessel. And send that information to the rest of the ships."

"Any reason why?"

"I don't want a bunch of alchemists trying to fuck up the hull of my ship." Edward muttered somewhat darkly.

"I'll get it sent down. What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"One step at a time, like a minefield. Okay, get some sleep. Have the Fleet stand down to Condition 3. We don't have any threats." Edward yawned.

"Is there something else on your mind, Edward?" Envy asked.

"No." Edward replied. Envy simply raised his right eyebrow.

"Really? I know you, _chibi-san_. There's something in your head, what is it?" Envy smirked. Swallowing his anger at being called _that_,

"Look, I can't tell you how happy I am to see my friends and family again, especially Alphonse." Edward sighed, a smile on his face.

"We could tell, no-one's ever seen you this happy in a long time, if at all." Hughes said.

"But..." Envy said rather knowingly.

"They're hiding something from me. And I wanna know what it is."

* * *

May 3rd, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Bradley quickly made his way to the sickbay for something rather important.

"Dr. Kimmler?" Bradley asked. H.R. Kimmler walked out from his office, a bottle of vodka in his hands.

"Yes commander?" he asked, scratching his light beard.

"Strictly between you and me. How much of the I-81 do we have left?" Bradley asked. Kimmler's eyes went wide.

"The Admiral has enough for only one more injection. I forgot to restock at Pearl because I thought we'd be gone for only a few days. Destroy the Chinese submarines and then head back. Not disappear into an alternate world with no idea when, or if, we'll return home."

"It's okay, no-one could've figured this was going to happen. But answer me as honestly as you can: With the amount that's in his system as of this moment, plus the final injection, how long does he have before he... breaks?" Bradley asked almost hesitantly.

"Six, seven months at the most. And that is really, _really_ stretching it. Once the drugs are completely flushed outta his system... Look, Commander, we all know what the Admiral is capable of. The whole fleet knows. In his plane, in command of a fleet, and especially, _especially_ on the battlefield. It's what he was made for. But these Amestrians, do they wanna really see that? I heard that one of them is his younger brother. If you were in Edward's position, would you want your younger brother to see you in that state?"

"No, I wouldn't." Bradley sighed. He realized that this was a bad situation.

"Look, the sooner we return to Pearl Harbor and refill our supply, the better it will be." Kimmler replied, sucking down some vodka.

"For the Admiral, or for his family?"

"For all of us, Commander."

* * *

**Again, sorry it took a while to publish this chapter. Don't know when the next one will be up, but hopefully it won't take as long as this. Even though I don't like how it turned out, I hope this chapter is okay. If there are any suggestions on how to make it better, PLEASE let me know. Read and review, please!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Here it is, the next chapter in Fullmetal's War! Sorry it took a while, but this chapter just wrote itself. But I think I like how it came out. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I own nothing. I do own Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood on DVD, but that's it. :)**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 3

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

_Strap him down! Hurry it up, strap him down!_

_GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME! DAMMIT, LET ME GO SO I CAN KILL ALL OF YOU!_

_Dammit, strap him down already! What do we do about that damn leg of his...? Gimme that sledgehammer, we'll start at the knee._

"NO!" Edward screamed as he awoke, his hands immediately clutching his left knee. Again, covered in sweat with soaked bedsheets. Hugging his knees to his chest, he buried his head in his arms and sighed deeply. After a while in this position, he stood up, ripped the soaked bedsheets off his bed and shoved them in the chute that led directly to the laundromat.

"I gotta get rid of these nightmares. They're gonna be the death of me." He sighed as he sat on the bed, unconsciously dragging his Desert Eagle off the table stand. He rummaged through his drawer and found a half empty bottle of Vodka. He stared at the front for a bit before he popped the top off and gulped a small swig. The intercom then rang. Using the gun to press it,

"Yeah?"

"Admiral Elric, its Lt. Eitherson. I got a Fuhrer Mustang on the line asking to come back onboard the ship again. He claims he's bringing additional personal onboard, people who want to come onboard to see the ship for themselves."

Edward sighed. _I don't wanna have to deal with this shit anymore, I just wanna take this fleet back to Pearl Harbor, back home. That too much to fucking ask?_

"Tell him, only military personal are allowed, along with very close friends and family members. He'll know what that means. Absolutely no politicians, no one representing the civilian government, or I'll have the transport helicopter shot down. Really stress these two points: military personal along with very close friends and family, and no one representing the civilian government, or they will die. Understand?"

"Yes sir. And I just wanted to remind you, Ensign Yakamoto says your final sparring session is today. Says you've been putting it off for too long and he wants to see your results."

"Okay. Inform the ship captains we're to line the fleet up for target practice. I understand we found a large island, right?"

"That's correct, sir."

"Alright. Get the fleet ready. I'll be up in the bridge soon. One more, thing, el-tee." Edward replied.

"Go ahead, sir."

"I want 10 Marine fire-teams, 5 Delta Force squads, 5 Army Ranger squads, 5 Navy Seal squads, 5 Green Beret squads, two M1A5 MBT's, 5 Apaches, 3 Cobra's, 2 of those new Maverick drone gunships, 5 of the old Harrier jets with a complete payload, and 3 of those 'Goliath' Assault Suits on the deck as a... greeting party for when the helicopter arrives. Their orders are to disarm them when they arrive onboard. That includes guns, knives, swords, bladed weaponry of any kind, alchemy gloves, brass knuckles, anything they find. I want all the troopers armed with Mini-Guns, flame-throwers, Exo-suits, you know the drill lieutenant." Edward said with slightly evil smile.

"I'll take care of it, Admiral." Eitherson replied.

"One last thing for the Marines and Spec Ops. If any of our guests attempt to interfere with the sparring session-any of them, in any way possible-I want them shot on sight."

With that out of the way, Edward stood up-only to collapse back on the bed, nursing a very sudden and very angry headache. He honestly felt like he was going to throw up. Edward simply laid back on the bed, wondering what the cause of his headache was. He looked down and saw his 15-inch morning wood standing straight in the air. _No, that's not it. I usually get dizzy when I get a hard-on, not a headache. Was it the alcohol? I have been cutting back on that. What the hell is this? Maybe a hot shower will fix me up._ He thought to himself through gritted teeth and trembling hands.

* * *

(An undetermined amount of time later...)

Edward sighed as he walked out of his steam filled bathroom, feeling back to normal.

_The good thing about being the Fleet Admiral, you can take showers as long as you want, and no-one can complain. Okay. 1__st__ on today's agenda: Blast some remote island to pieces and hope we don't start a shooting war with Aerugo. 2__nd__: Hold a sparring session on the deck with Bradley and Envy. See if those two can keep up with me. Don't know why they still wanna do it. Time after time, I keep kicking their asses, don't know why they insist on continuing. Even with their augments… I still don't know they continue doing it. Well, yeah, I do. Bradley took fencing when he was younger and sought several teachers around the states to teach him how to use a sword. He's not bad at all. And Envy, shit, that sadist-no, he's not a sadist. He's just screwed in the head. Just like me, heh. We're both fucked up in the head, and still in the Navy. Well, I can't deny that Envy's getting better with his swords. Very better. Of course, with everything he's done to his own body…. How could he do that to himself? He's definitely not right in the head, but then again, if I suffered the pains he has, I wouldn't be sane either. Of course, if he went through what I went through, he wouldn't be right also. Jesus, what am I saying? Comstock and I, we're both royally fucked in the head. It's only because of Commander Bradley that we're still in the service. Well, me, really. King keeps giving John opportunity after opportunity to leave, yet the pilot stays. _Edward thought to himself as he ran the rough towel over his wet body.

_Envy's right, though. They don't know what I'm capable of. I'm gonna have to tell them and they'll have to accept the consequences. If Mustang wants to try to kill them, then he will have signed the death sentence for all of Amestris and every man, woman, and child living in it. The protection and safety of my crew outweigh EVERYTHING else. If I have to burn Amestris to the ground to send that message, then so be it. Just like Southern Asia and Western Russia. I've done it before, I've no problems doing it again. Only this time, they don't have anything to stop the firepower I can bring to bear. If it turns into a war, it will be over very, very, quickly._ Edward thought to himself as he tugged on his winter camouflage combat pants, black combat boots, and a button up, long-sleeve Navy blue shirt. Grabbing his holster, he slammed the Desert Eagle inside without a second thought. After that, he did up his ponytail and grabbed his two Gothic/Heavy Metal decorated Samurai Swords out of his weapons locker, which was really nothing more than a large metal closet that held over 105 different handguns, most of which were M1911 Colt. 45's, Colt. 45 'Peacemaker's, .357 Magnum revolver's, .44 Magnum revolver's, Desert Eagle's, 15 assault rifles which were nothing more than M4's and AK-47's, two M1921 Thompson submachineguns of the 'Chicago Typewriter' variant that had extended barrels, 5 'modernized' M1 garand rifles, 3 M14 rifles, 2 M21 rifles, 2 M25 rifles, 5 Henry lever-action rifles with a 'pistol' fore-grip, 5 Winchestor lever-action rifles with a 'pistol' fore-grip, 5 MG-42 machineguns with a wood-and-leather 'pistol' fore-grip, an XM-250 .50 caliber 'high-velocity' railgun sniper rifle, 3 AA-5 semi-automatic combat shotguns, one M50 fully-automatic shotgun, a TI-81 semi-automatic grenade launcher, an RPG-15 rocket launcher, a ZR5 flamethrower, the supposedly 'prototype' AR-11 Directed-Energy Assault Rifle, and a Minigun.

After he fastened the harness on his torso that had essentially strapped the swords to his back, he slapped on a white headband as he walked the hallways of his ship, ignoring the salutes of all those that passed him. As he continued towards the bridge, he suddenly thought of something. _Should I contact Aerugo and let them know what's gonna happen? For all I know, that island could belong to them. Eh, too late to worry about that now. If it does belong to them, and they do see it as an act of war, I'll just bomb the main country until either there's nothing left or they surrender. In the words of George Carlin, 'we can't do anything right, but we'll bomb the shit outta your country.'_ Edward couldn't help but smile at that. Inwardly, that is.

* * *

May 4th, 1917

Central City, Central Train Station

(One hour, 24 min later...)

"Did you really have to go sparring with Mrs. Curtis before you go see your brother again?" Roy asked. The same people that boarded the USS America the previous day were at the Central Train Station, along with some newcomers: Scar, the Armstrong siblings, Emperor Ling Yao and his wife/bodyguard Lan Fan, Izumi and Sig Curtis, and Winry Rockbell.

"I gotta stay in shape somehow. And being a high-ranked officer doesn't leave Brother any options to train with me." Al said.

"I'm sure he has his reasons." Riza said with a warm smile.

"So, excited to see Brother again?" Al asked Winry- right as two Mustang fighter jets roared overhead, interrupting Winry. Once the noise was gone,

"That reminds me, I'm gonna talk to him and see if he can stop flying his planes over our heads." Mustang said.

"You said his planes built for war, yes?" Olivia asked.

"Edward never specifically said that, but he sure made it sound that way. He claimed the guns on his ship could hit Ft. Briggs, even from several miles away from Aerugo, and the objects you described over Ft. Briggs match the configuration of his planes. Not to mention, he told us if there was a target he was after, he can find it and kill it."

"Anything we can use to help bolster our defenses at the border would be of great help. We don't want this to turn into another Ishval." Alex sighed.

"Let's see if Edward's willing to help, though. He does have every right to say no. He's no longer an alchemist, so he's no longer bound by the regulations of the State Alchemist Program. Not to mention, well…."

"It's been two years, Mustang. He has to understand why we did it." Scar reminded, folding his large arms.

"I'm just afraid what his reaction will be if he finds out." Roy sighed as the train pulled up.

"Do you really think it's wise to keep secrets from him? Despite what he showed us yesterday, we still don't really know anything about what he really has at his disposal. This is just me, but it probably isn't such a good idea to make Ed our enemy, alchemist or not. We can't exactly afford to fight a two-front war, especially if one of our enemies has the ability to fly airplanes over our heads and drop fire on us. We don't have any defense against that. And if his guns really can hit Ft. Briggs, then it's safe to assume he can target any city in Amestris and destroy them with ease while he gets to sit back and watch." Havoc reminded while he light up a cigarette.

"If that's the case, shouldn't we try to stop him now before he does so?" Olivia asked.

"We should make a plan to capture his ship _if_ he decides to fight against us. But I don't think he would wage a war against his own country." Roy replied. As the train sped to the Amestris-Aerugo border,

"So, ready to see Brother again?" Al asked. He was sharing the same compartment with Winry, Izumi, Sig and Hohenheim. Winry was rather nervous, but how couldn't she be?

"I... God, I'm not gonna lie, Al, I'm nervous. Has he grown, has he changed, has he-?"

"Has he busted your Automail leg yet?" Al teased.

"I'm gonna kill him if he's busted my leg." Winry replied. Al laughed at that, but he couldn't help but wonder what would truly happen if Winry tried to assault Ed. On a ship that was filled with armed... What did Brother call them? Marines. And he said they were 100 times better than Riza when it came to shooting. _I don't think I wanna face those guys in combat if they're better than Riza when it comes to shooting. And she's the best shot in the whole military._ Al thought to himself.

"Still haven't changed these past two years." Al said, placing his hand on Winry's. In turn, Winry leaned closer to rest her head on Al's shoulder.

"Al, what are we gonna do if Ed finds out about-"

"I really don't know _how_ he'll react. For him, it's been 15 years since-"

"Wait, 15 years? Al, he's been gone for only two." Izumi replied, rightfully confused.

"On our side of the Gate, yes. But on the other side, he's been there for 15. So that would make him 32 years old." Hohenheim cut in. Izumi and Sig were rightfully shocked. Winry was stunned beyond belief.

"Don't worry, he still looks like he hasn't aged, though. Still looks 16." Al said with a nervous smile. _Was I supposed to have let loose that bit? Maybe it doesn't matter about his age. Winry's gonna freak out when she sees the scars on his face, though._

* * *

May 4th, 1917

Coast of Aerugo

(Some time later...)

The large Amestrian Company was at the same place on the beachhead as they were the previous day. Not to mention a large detachment of Amestrian troops as well and a few armored brigades. The usual fog was still there, but there was something different. Loud, thundering booms were heard.

"Al, what is that?" Winry asked, slightly nervous.

"Sounds like artillery fire. But it's heading _away_ from us. You said... Admiral Elric's ships were armed, correct?" Olivia asked.

"Heavily armed, yes. So what could they be shooting at?" Roy wondered. Once Fuery got the communications set up again,

"USS America, this is Fuhrer Mustang. Admiral Elric, are you there?" Roy asked.

"_Sorry, Fuhrer Mustang, the Fleet Admiral is not available, he has been disposed of at the moment. Can I take a message?_" a cocky voice responded.

"Damn bastard." Mustang sighed under his breath.

"_Was that the message?_"

"No, listen. I came into contact with a Lieutenant Eitherson earlier today, he told me that I could bring additional personal onboard the ship. Close friends and family, no-one concerning the civilian government like he asked. We're at the coast, same position as yesterday."

"_Okay, I'll send a chopper over to bring you onboard. Be advised, we are undergoing weapons test on an unidentified island._"

"Is that the artillery fire we're listening to?"

"_Nope. Ship's cannons, sir._" And with that, the man hung up. Mustang blinked in surprise at that. Obviously, something was going on. Edward had to have known that they were coming onboard. Maybe he wanted to display what firepower he had at his disposal? That was certainly a possibility. Either way, he decided he would get his answers once he was onboard the ship.

"So are we going to see him?" Ling asked.

"They're sending a transport over. What we're hearing is cannon fire, Edward's ship is armed with several railguns."

"Railguns?" the Xingese emperor asked.

"All he said was that they were cannon-sized guns that are capable of shooting a projectile at speeds up to 8,500 miles per second." Ling's eyes went wide at that.

"Sure wish we had something like that when we had to face the Homunculi." He replied slowly.

"So do I. He did say they were capable of hitting Ft. Briggs from out here, so it's reasonable to assume he can hit targets beyond the border. Could be what we need to stop the Drachmans." Mustang mused. Olivia said nothing at that, but secretly agreed with the Fuhrer.

"So, what transport are they sending over?" Izumi asked. She got her answer as a Navy helicopter roared through the fog, blowing dust everywhere.

"What's that?!" Scar asked, rightfully surprised.

"Our ride." Roy smirked.

"Come again?" Alex asked.

"Look, even I don't know how the damn thing works. Trust me, it'll take us to Edward." The rear hatch opened up and the same Lieutenant from yesterday walked out.

"Good to see you again, Fuhrer Mustang! To be honest, we weren't expecting you to come back onboard the following day!" Mattherson yelled.

"Is that going to be a problem? I have additional people who wish to see your ship and the Admiral himself!"

"As long as they're not involved in politics! Just don't get too comfortable! Civilians aren't allowed onboard without his express permission, military personal only unless authorized!"

"He told us only close friends and family for today's visit!" Roy replied.

"Alright, get onboard!" Mattherson replied rather quickly. Mustang took notice of the sudden change in the man's overall attitude. Yesterday, he seemed rather friendly. Today, however, he acted as if he didn't want to bring additional people onboard. _Is Edward not ready to see us again? He seemed overwhelmingly happy to see us yesterday. Could it be he's in shock? Maybe he thinks I'm bringing the Parliament onboard, and he did say he didn't want anyone from the civilian arm of the government to board his ship. Something just doesn't feel right here, what could it be_? Roy thought to himself as he boarded the chopper. One thing he definitely noticed was that the cockpit was cut off. Yesterday, they could see into it. Now, there was just a large steel barrier with a door in the way. _What's going on here?_ Mustang couldn't help but wonder. In the cockpit….

"Got a message from the Admiral. He says we're to hold our current position until the shooting's done. Or else he'll shoot us down." Mattherson stated.

"Paranoid bastard, but I don't blame him. He's never wrong. Besides, it's a good thing he ordered the newer models for us, what with the escape pod and all. So if he does shoot us down, we just hit the 'eject' button, pod shoots out and our asses are safe while everyone else back there gets vaporized." The pilot, an Ensign Arthur B. 'Mickey' Vanson, cackled.

"Just got another message. He's actually cancelling the exercise, says he doesn't want to waste ammunition here. Also... huh." Mattherson muttered.

"What?" Vanson asked.

"Got those box of flash-bangs you always bring onboard?"

"Always do, why?"

"Admiral wants us to use them when we land; says he has a something special planned for our guests we're bringing onboard."

* * *

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Main Hanger Deck

"Everything set?" Edward asked.

"We have everything you asked for, except the tanks. Don't want my pilots try to take off and land on a deck that's been caved in by caterpillar treads. Besides, that's over kill anyway." Envy surmised, swinging his samurai sword around.

"Why did you request all those soldiers and planes to guard them? It's not like they're a threat to us." Bradley asked.

"Because if they see you two, they'll more than likely try to kill you. And that's not gonna happen, not while I'm alive. Ensign?" Edward asked. Ensign Tadama Yakamoto stepped forward. He was around Edward's height, with short black hair neatly slicked back with a clean-shaven face. He wasn't overwhelmingly muscular, but was by no means a skinny runt. Although young, his eyes shined of a man with years of experience. An expert in the art of the Samurai, he had been training Edward in the ancient ways for over four years. Although the rank difference between the two was overwhelmingly obvious-Yakamoto being a simple Ensign and Elric being the head of the entire United States Armed Forces-Edward _always_ treated his master with respect.

"Today is your last session, at least under my tutelage. You know what the goal is. You know what is expected of you."

"I understand, sensei." The two bowed, and then walked away. Edward, Envy and Bradley walked towards the main aircraft elevator while Yakamoto took the personal elevator up to the main deck. Edward sat down cross-legged staring at the sea while Envy and Bradley remained standing, staring into the ship. Edward took a moment to observe the two men with him. Both had two Samurai Swords with them, along with a few combat knives and daggers. Bradley wore jungle camouflage pants, boots, his eyepatch and an olive-colored t-shirt that clung to his muscled body. Envy had his trademark headband, fingerless gloves, an extremely tight, dark red t-shirt that _really_ showed off his well-built torso, a harness for his swords, and tight, black boxer briefs that showed off just a little too much, which had both Edward and Bradley wishing that he didn't wear it. Like Edward and King, he wore steel-toed combat boots. Edward was the only one of the trio that had his sidearm. The elevator moved upwards rather slowly. Envy let his eyes wander and saw something that slightly intrigued him. _That looks familiar... _"What's that?" he asked, tapping a somewhat pronounceable bulge in Edward's genital region with his right sword.

"What, you forgot already from the academy? Well, if you want, you can always come by my quarters any evening and I can help you relive our so-called glory days." Edward replied very sarcastically.

"You bring the whiskey and I'll bring the handcuffs and we'll call it a date." Envy replied with a smirk.

"Oh brother, can't you two keep it in your quarters and no-where else?" Bradley sighed. Edward and Envy simply winked at each other. _Edward: 15. Envy: 21. Bradley: 0 _were the thoughts in the two pilots. As the elevator continued to lift upwards,

"You two ready to get your asses' handed to you? Again?" Edward smirked.

"Don't you know that overconfidence will lead to a man's downfall?" Bradley reminded.

"I know. But why is it that I've always managed to beat you two time and time again?" Edward asked.

"Because you have more experience in hand-to-hand than we do. And that's even with _our_ training and augments." Envy replied.

"Heh, human augmentation. Still can't get over it, despite that every man and women in this battle group has them. I know, the military likes to deny it, but they gotta face the facts, we're building an army of super-soldiers without even realizing it. I mean, mandatory augmentations, no matter how minor they are, when you first sign up to the military? We're an army of super-soldiers, that's the plain truth." Edward muttered to himself. Envy and Bradley shared a look with one thing on their minds: _Does he not remember? Or are the drugs starting to wear off? Worse yet, have they completely worn off already? If they have... Fuhrer Mustang, you shouldn't have come back. Now your country will have to suffer the consequences if we can't control our Admiral._

* * *

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Flight Deck

Alphonse slowly gained his senses back, along with a pounding headache. _What... What happened? We were on the helicopter, landing on the ship, then... What did the men up front, what did Edward call them? Pilots? What did those pilots throw at us? _His memory suddenly came back to him: several flash bang grenades were suddenly tossed into the main bay from the cockpit. What seemed like an eternity of brilliant, blinding lights flashing in his eyes. Overwhelmingly loud bangs that made his ears ring painfully. Strong arms pulling him out of the gunship, the cold air outside the craft and the painful steel deck of the ship meant he was tossed onto the ground. Cuffs tightened on his wrists. Men shouting out orders. The sound of machine guns being cocked. The young boy looked up to see dozens of soldiers in front of him. They all wore differing, yet similar uniforms. Boots, fingerless gloves, camouflage pants, jackets, etc. They had on masks that covered their faces decorated with an image of the human skull. They also had metal rods on their arms and legs that hooked up to a narrow strip of metal and leather that ran up their spines. Al could only imagine what those were for. He also noticed their weapons.

Some of them held what appeared to be flamethrowers of some sort. Others held weapons that appeared to be an extremely miniaturized version of the 30mm cannon Brother had shown them yesterday. One thing was similar was that both the flamethrowers and the Gatling Guns were attached to a backpack-like device on their backs. All the soldiers had grenades and knives on their belts. He glanced at Mustang, Riza, Winry, and everyone else. A mixture of expressions were on everyone's faces: Shock, anger, and confusion. They all wanted to know what was going on, though.

"Soldier, I wanna speak to Admiral Elric. What's going on here? Who gave you the order to tie us up?" Mustang asked.

"All your questions will be answered in due time. I suggest you stay quiet." A large Navy SEAL operator replied.

"Soldier, answer his question, what's going on here? Who gave you the order the tie us up?!" General Armstrong yelled, attracting the attention of a Delta Force operator.

"Fine. If you really want to know, it was Fleet Admiral Elric who gave the order. He also gave us the order to shoot any of you if you interrupt his sparring session with the XO and CAG." The man replied, stunning the Amestrians. As if that was his cue, several heavily armed gunships and VTOL fighter jets arrived over the carrier, pointing their weapons at the stunned Amestrians.

"Alphonse, why is Edward doing this?" Winry asked, rightfully afraid.

"I'll find a way out of this." Al muttered. Despite being in cuffs, Al clapped his hands together and slammed his body back into the Island Superstructure of the ship. However, he didn't know of the modifications his own brother made to the ship. Absolutely nothing had happened.

"Why... Why didn't it-" Al found himself slammed on the deck with a flamethrower pressed to his back.

"This is your only warning, kid. Don't try anything else." Al found himself pulled back up to his feet very roughly.

"You said sparring session, who's he fighting?" Izumi asked. Everyone got their answer when the aircraft elevator on the far end of the deck lifted up. Everyone's eyes went wide when they saw the three men on the deck.

"No... No, that can't be, that can't be possible." Mustang gasped. When Bradley and Envy withdrew their swords,

"Brother, run!" "Edward, get out of there!" were among the shouts the Amestrians yelled. Edward simply ignored them.

"I take it your friends think we're gonna kill you?" Bradley asked.

"That'll be the day. Envy, do your pilots know what's going on?" Edward asked, cracking his neck.

"Sure do."

"Then this'll be very interesting." Edward smirked as he looked behind him.

"Sgt. Collier, over here!" one of the soldiers turned around and started to walk over to the Fleet Admiral. A loud 'pfft' sound was heard, and the man suddenly jumped high in the air, landing next to his superior officer.

"What was that?" Riza asked.

"Sir?"

"I want Ling Yao and Lan Fan over here, I want them to spar with me. And don't worry, they won't get to the Commander or CAG. I'll cut them down if they do. Just keep the rest up against the wall. And the two I just mentioned, give 'em their swords back. They should have some sort of Asian lettering on the blades." Edward said, staring at the blue water as the _USS Saratoga-A_, a Zumwalt-class destroyer, sailed by. Sgt. Collier jumped back towards the 'prisoners' and began searching for the aforementioned swords.

"Ling Yao, Lan Fan, step forward!" the marine barked. The two Xingese slowly got to their feet and slowly, very slowly, walked forward.

"Are these your swords?" Collier presented the blades.

"Y-Yes." Lan Fan stammered.

"Admiral Elric wants you two to spar with him. Don't try anything stupid." The marine growled as he removed the cuffs. Despite that both Ling and his wife were very good martial arts experts, the US Marines and Spec Ops vastly outmatched the two, even without the Exo-suits. Gently gripping their swords, the two slowly walked over to where the Admiral and his two subordinates awaited. Breathing heavily, the two suddenly jumped when two Mustang fighter jets suddenly roared off the deck at the bow of the ship.

"Scared of my planes? Don't worry, they won't shoot you unless I give the order." Envy said with a smile that was warm, yet also at the same time sadistically evil.

"You sure seem awfully calm, homunculus." Ling said as bravely as he could-which wasn't brave at all.

"And yet your voice shakes when you speak. This is a sparring session, nothing more. Your target is me, and me alone. If either of you go after the other two, I will cut you down. Understand?" Edward asked, pure determination in his voice. Ling and Lan looked at each other, realizing they had no choice.

"Any reason why you wanted us to join?" Lan asked.

"Thought I could use a little extra competition. Let's see what you guys got." Edward said, getting to his feet while drawing out his swords. Ling and Lan only had one sword in their hands, while Edward, Envy and Bradley each held two. The four slowly circled around the Admiral, surrounding him. Edward slowly breathed in through his nose, exhaling very carefully out his lips.

"Think fast!" Edward yelled, suddenly striking the two Xingese warriors. The two immediately put their blades up to protect themselves-and found themselves thrown back quite a bit by the sheer force of Edward's strike. _How can he hit so strong? The only man I've sparred with that had that sort of strength was Wrath, but he was a Homunculus. Wait, his hand. Edward's right arm is metal, it's a prosthetic. And is left arm, when did his bicep get so large? Is that how? Just by large muscles and prosthetics?_ Ling thought as he continued to block the heavy blows from the United States Admiral. Despite that Edward was still shorter, Ling was obviously outmatched, not knowing just who-no, just _what_ he was currently up against.

"Come on, is that all you got?" Edward snarled as he suddenly grabbed the Emperor and flung him into the other three like he was a rag doll. Twirling the swords around,

"I asked for a good fight, you gonna give it to me or not?" Edward asked. The two Navy officers simply smirked, while the two Xingese officials were rather offended. As one, the four charged the lone Admiral, their swords swinging in an attempt to strike Edward, but he was able to block them all. Edward suddenly charged the four and burst through, focusing his attacks on Ling. However, he moved with a speed that enabled him to block all the attacks from his four opponents, but still pressing the Xing emperor back. However, Edward used another tactic that he was rather fond of using.

"What's the matter, Ling? Ever since you got rid of Greed, just couldn't fight as good anymore? Bet his Ultimate Shield would be pretty useful right now, huh?"

"You're one to talk, considering you have two Homunculi onboard your ship at the moment." Ling replied as he quickly ducked from two swings from Edward's swords.

"Oh, believe me, if they were Homunculi, I'd had them killed years ago. But they're not the ones to worry about." Edward smirked.

"You're right, they're not." Ling smiled. However, his plan didn't work. Somehow, Edward knew that Lan Fan was gonna try to strike him from behind. He quickly reached behind him and threw her into his husband. Switching his assault,

"What's the matter, Lan Fan? Been riding the Emperor's dick too much? Bet you wish for a real man's pecker. Why don't you come on by my quarters this evening and I'll show you what a real man's cock looks like." Edward smirked. Lan simply growled as she swung her sword in an attempt to disarm the Admiral. Edward simply held up his left sword-which didn't budge a millimeter. Smirking, Edward took advantage of her surprise by slamming his leg into her torso and kicked her a few meters back. She was sure she would have a nice bruise on her mid-abdomen.

"Come on guys, I said I wanted a good match." Edward sighed.

"You want a good fight, you'll get it." Bradley snarled as he and Envy charged again. Despite the ferocity of their attack, Edward simply held them off with ease. Ling and his wife soon joined in on the fight, believing Bradley and Envy to be Homunculi. _Where did he move this fast? I've never seen anyone move like him! Okay, maybe King Bradley, maybe. But even then, how is this possible? Edward's not a Homunculus! Maybe the world he just came from did something to him, but what?! _Ling thought to himself as he blocked heavy blow after heavy blow, again and again. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever, the fight had barely started and he was already breathing heavily. Both him and his wife. The three officers, however, didn't even break a sweat. Bradley and Envy re-directed their attacks on the admiral, their Samurai swords clanging against each other in an attempt to lay a mark on Edward.

"Plane coming our way!" Envy yelled. A Mustang interceptor had touched down on the deck and roared towards the combatants at a very high speed. Edward quickly glanced behind him and launched himself backward _over_ the interceptor. Envy and Bradley did the same thing, while Ling and Lan Fan quickly dove out of the way so as to not get hit. The interceptor just roared down the deck and took off into the blue sky again. The Amestrians were rather stunned that Edward was able to jump over such a fast-moving target. The best, however, was yet to come...

* * *

(Some hours later...)

"What's the matter, Ling, getting tired already? Shame, I was just barely getting warmed up!" Edward snarked, slamming heavy blow after heavy blow with his swords. Ling, however, was doing everything he could to stay alive. With Bradley and Envy joining in on the fight with their assaults, Ling and his wife took a moment to breath. They took a moment to observe the former Alchemist and his subordinates duke it out.

Edward was clearly on the defensive, but had no problems with that at all. Envy and Bradley alternatively took turns on their assault, but always changing their attack to keep Edward on his toes. However, Edward seemed to have some sort of superhuman ability to always detect and block the next blow, the next strike, no matter where it came from.

"My Lord?" Lan Fan asked, putting her hand on Ling's shoulder.

"How can he move like that? Only a Homunculus could move like he's moving, and he's got two of... Lan Fan, when you fought you, what were his facial expressions? Did they seem very angry? Like he wanted to kill you?"

"Y-yes."

"But look at him now. He's smiling. Whenever he fights against those two, he seems almost content. Like he's not taking it seriously. But against us... Damn, I'm gonna have some rough bruises in the morning." Ling coughed as he touched his left ribcage. Edward had viciously slammed his right leg into Ling's torso when he wasn't expecting it at one point, sending the Emperor back. They continued to watch the fight as two more Mustang fighter jets touched on the deck, making the three officers jump over the metal birds like they weren't even there.

_How can they move like that? That shouldn't be possible..._

Not wanting to be left out of the fight, Ling and Lan got up and charged at Edward with what strength they had left. Edward, who currently had his swords stretched out trying to prevent Bradley and Envy from pinning him to the deck, saw what they were doing and simply jumped-to the very top of the Island superstructure on the rear of the ship, all 210 feet into the air. He landed on the very top rather easily.

"If you have the stones, come on up!" the cocky Admiral yelled.

"Time to make Edward eat his own words." Envy smirked. Sheathing their swords, Envy and his CO started running towards the structure. Like Edward, they two were able to jump a very tall distance up to the top. Envy was able to make it, but Bradley, although very strong and capable, had to use parkour and various gymnastics to get to the top, although it wasn't difficult for him at all. Everyone save the U.S. Marines and Spec Ops stared at Edward in utter shock.

"That's not possible. That shouldn't be possible, no way can they jump all the way up there." Al gasped.

"Admiral Elric, Commander Bradley, Lieutenant Commander Comstock! Return to the deck, the fight stays here!" Yakamoto yelled. The three men simply jumped down, leaving small dents on the deck plating. The minute Edward landed, he immediately resumed his attack on Ling and Lan, taking advantage of their surprise.

"A true warrior always makes sure he or she doesn't let his guard down! They always stay on their guard because you never know when or where you'll be attacked from next! I guess Xing doesn't have that nailed down very well, that, is why you. Will! LOSE!" Edward snarled as he slammed heavy blows into the two Xing warriors. Bradley and Envy decided enough was enough and joined in an attempt to stop Edward from killing the Xing emperor and his wife. Edward, however, had one last card to pull before ending the fight. Sheathing his left sword, he slammed his leg into Ling's head, which knocked him to the ground, while slamming his right sword into the other three combatant's blades, momentarily knocking them back. He quickly dropped to one knee, put his remaining sword on Lan Fan's neck and pulled out a small cone-shaped device from his groin with the command, "DROP IT!"

Bradley and Envy knew what the device was, although Ling and Lan Fan didn't have a clue as to what it was, nor why Edward hid it in his pants.

"Okay. On the count of three, everyone's gonna put their swords away and this sparring session will be over." Bradley said slowly.

"Why should we listen to you?" Lan Fan growled.

"You see what he's holding? That's an explosive that, if activated, will turn all of us into scorch marks on the deck plate. So, unless you want to die, I suggest you put your fucking swords away and back the fuck off!" Envy snarled. _John, you know this warhead won't do shit against me. It'll kill everyone else, but not me._ Edward thought to himself.

"He's right. Put the swords away, we're done." Edward said. Ling and Lan Fan slowly put their swords away. Bradley and Envy did the same.

"Here, take this back to the hanger deck. Belongs to the Sidewinder missile on plane #441 on the starboard side." Edward said, handing the warhead to his pilot.

"You're the Admiral, yes, but I'm the Fleet CAG. If it involves my planes or munitions, I want to know about it." Envy snarled.

"Well, the good thing about having my rank is that I don't have to explain myself to anyone." Edward smirked.

"Yes, you only have to explain your actions to only two people, the Secretary of Defense and the President of the United States. Other than that, you don't have a leash to hold you down." Envy replied very sarcastically. Edward simply ignored him as he walked towards Yakamoto, giving a slight bow before him.

"So, how did I do?"

"You handled yourself very well. Good footwork, excellent swordsmanship. You've been acting on instinct as of late, which is a good thing. You're ability to detect danger from all odds has greatly increased since I first met you. If you continue your training, even if it's on your own, you will become a great swordsman." Yakamoto complimented as two Navy SEALS disarmed Ling and Lan Fan.

"But..." Edward said knowingly. His master always had something to instruct his pupil on.

"I have noticed you've seemed to favor more violent, aggressive attacks. That might work for you because of your training, but that's not the correct way. You still have much to learn. I had high hopes that I would finally bestow the name 'Samurai' on you, but I was wrong. You have too much anger built inside you. You need to let it all go, and find peace within you. I understand that might be hard, especially because of World War III and the attacks we've had to suffer, not to mention the attacks we've taken part of. But I believe you can achieve that peace you're looking for. But unfortunately, I cannot help you there."

"Alright. But I still want to thank you for taking the time to teach me. I won't lie, you've helped me a lot. But the aggressive attacks, that's not gonna stop anytime soon. That's just who I am." Edward sighed as a Marine walked up to Bradley and whispered something in his ear.

"Understandable. So, what are your orders, Admiral?" Yakamoto asked.

"Take this warhead and put it back on #441 on the starboard hanger deck. Admiral, Kimmler just called; he says he wants you in the sickbay immediately for a further check-up. Might wanna bring these two with us, considering how you tossed them around like rag dolls." Bradley muttered. Although it was somewhat insulting, there was no denying that Ed did throw the two Xingese warriors around like they were nothing. It honestly made the two wonder how Edward was able to do that with four combatants against him. He didn't have a single scratch on him, if you discounted the scars on his face.

"Edward, you mind explaining what's going on here? Like why you have two homunculi on your ship?" Mustang asked.

"Come with me, I'll explain everything inside. Don't try anything stupid on me." Edward replied, leading the entourage inside the massive ship. Seeing as they were cuffed, their alchemy didn't work and that they had heavily armed Marines guarding them, they had no choice but to comply with Edward's demands. The walk down to the sickbay was rather quiet, but the Amestrians could only wonder one thing: _Why is Edward doing this? What's his plan, and how are we gonna get out of this mess_?

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Commander King Bradley_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Lieutenant H.R. Kimmler_

* * *

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Main Sickbay, Deck 15, Corridor 1A x Hallway 5B

"Dr. Kimmler, got a couple of patients for you to check up on. Heard you wanted to check on me as well." Edward muttered. Dr. H.R. Kimmler walked out of his office. The Amestrians eyes went wide.

"Solf J. Kimblee?" Mustang gasped.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Kimmler, H.R. Kimmler. I'm the ship's main doctor. Now who are these two extra patients you asked for?"

"Emperor Ling Yao and his body guard, Lan Fan. Oh, you can take the cuffs off the Amestrians now." Edward said as he positioned his Marines and Spec Ops officers in various positions in the massive sickbay that would give them the best advantage to gunning down the Amestrian party in case a shoot-out occurred.

"Okay, I need you two to sit down on this bed. Take your shirts off, I'll need to examine you." Kimmler said. The two reluctantly sat on the bed, removing their clothes.

"Admiral, must you always be rough on your opponents?" Kimmler sighed as he inspected a very ugly bruise on Lan Fan's chest.

"Not my problem they're not as good as me." Edward said smugly, folding his arms. Ignoring the comment, Kimmler resumed his work.

"What are you doing?" Ling asked. Kimmler was running a medical scanner of some sort over a purple bruise on his ribcage.

"I'm repairing your blood vessels as we speak. In a few seconds, the bruise should be gone. Any broken bones?"

"No."

"Hmm. Well, take my word for it. You and the young lady here got off lucky if you sparred against Admiral Elric. Most of the time, those he spars against, I have to rebuild their skeletal structure and transplant their organs back in their bodies. And those are the lucky ones." Kimmler said as he pressed a needle in Ling's ribcage, depressing the plunger. Once the liquid was inside, he went to work on Lan Fan. While he was busy treating her,

"Brother, your soldiers said you gave the order to cuff us and even shoot us if we tried to interfere. Is that true?" Alphonse asked, worried what the response would be.

"You want the truth? Here it is. I-"

"Admiral, your turn now. Let's see how bad you are." Kimmler interrupted, drinking from his flask. Edward groaned.

"Do we really have to do this? I always get fidgety whenever your hands are exploring my junk." Edward sighed.

"Hey, you never had that problem when-"

"Envy, please don't go there." Bradley interrupted the pilot. Edward and Envy shared a chuckle at the Commander's discomfort. _Edward: 15. Envy: 22. Bradley: 0._

"Come on, Admiral, clothes off. And I mean all of it." Kimmler ordered.

"Any reason why?" Edward asked.

"You know it's easier for me to inspect you when you're naked. The scanners won't work on you, you know that. So the next best thing is regular eyeballs."

Sighing, Edward removed every article of clothing that he had on. The room suddenly went quiet, save for the multiple gasps from the Amestrians when the saw Edward naked. Two things stood out: One was his _very _muscular build. His body was that of a man who worked out every day, and obviously lifted very heavy weights for _hours_ on end. Winry had seen him shirtless before whenever she fixed his automail, but the difference between Ed's body then and his body now was _overwhelmingly_ obvious. Sure he had muscle back then, but that was nothing compared to now.

He looked as if he had been carved straight out of titanium steel; every muscle was so _heavily_ defined it made everyone wonder if the current Fleet Admiral had any ounce of fat on him at all. It was rather easy to assume that all of the men-with the exception of Hohenheim, Scar, Alex Armstrong and Sig Curtis-were _very_ jealous of Edward's muscles. Although Winry, Riza, Olivia, Lan Fan and Izumi would _never _admit it, they all felt some heat shoot down to between their legs. If only the Amestrians knew what his body was really meant for...

The other item that stood out was Edward's entire body seemed to be littered in scars. His taunt back, his buttocks which made every woman and homosexual/bisexual man on the ship turn their head whenever he walked past, his toned thighs and leg, his extremely well-defined chest and stomach, his massive left bicep and bulging forearm; there was nothing on his body that didn't hold a scar. Even his face wasn't spared. Scars from slashing attacks and cuts, stab wounds, gunshot wounds, scars that told of shrapnel injuries, multiple burn marks, marks from electrical attacks, etc. there were minor bruises here and there that left small amounts of minor discoloration, but nothing like the large bruise on his left ribcage that gave Edward the look of having a deformed, albeit well-built, body. They also noticed that Edward's torso looked horribly burned, to add to the scars and bruises. All in all, he looked as if he had been put through the meat grinder and then some. He still had that rugged, handsome look, but there was no denying the pain that he wore on his skin. Everyone, especially Winry, took the time to study his prosthetics.

They were far more advanced than even the best Automail in Amestris, for which she was slightly jealous of, not knowing of the 145-year difference. They were both made of a steel alloy that Winry could not immediately identify, but she did admit that it looked very strong, and they both had a dull, nonchalant gray color. His left leg started off with what appeared to be a metal knee, and perfectly matched a human leg in every way. The tendons, the calf muscle that was built to perfectly match his real one, his Achilles tendon, his prosthetic even had individual toes. Wiring was also present on the fake limb, although they were sunk in.

His arm was just as, if not more impressive. It held the functions and normal range of a regular human arm. Unlike an Amestrian automail arm, there was no armor plating that came in shingles on the shoulder, instead it was on large curved plating that covered his shoulder and his upper arm. The fake bicep was just as big as his real one, which was saying a lot. Unlike his leg, the arm seemed to have more wiring exposed, but not by a whole lot. There were also miniature hydraulics running down the forearm from his elbow to his wrist. Metal plating seemed to extend out his shoulder piece onto his back, down his ribs and onto his pectoral muscle and clavicle. Winry could faintly make out the letterings, 'Property of the U.S. Navy' on both limbs. She also noticed what appeared to be various markings on both prosthetics. It took her a second to realize the marks she saw were 'scars', the result of the various battles Edward had to partake while in the service of the United States Military.

As the Amestrians continue to stare in shock at Edward's perfectly sculpted and war-torn body, Kimmler got to work to make sure his CO was ready for battle.

"So... Edward... W-what... God, Edward, what happened to you?" Mustang blurted out.

"What, you mean the scars and muscles?"

"Yes."

"Are they really that noticeable?"

"Yes, they are!" Roy, Riza, Alphonse, Winry, and Hohenheim yelled.

"Let me answer your question with one of mine." Edward said coolly, turning around so his back was faced to them as Kimmler ran his hands down Edward's ribs.

"Okay..."

"Why is it that you, Roy Mustang, a veteran of the Ishval Civil War, a capable soldier in his own right, the Fuhrer of Amestris which is, if I'm not mistaken, a country where the military holds most of the political power, is shocked to see your former subordinate wearing a few scars and bruises? The moment a man or a woman dons on a military uniform, regardless of whatever country they hail from, be it Russia, the USA, or Amestris; the moment they put on a military uniform, they have to accept the fact that they will more than likely return home with scars, both physical and mental. That is, if they make it home alive." Edward responded, silencing the Fuhrer.

"But, where, where did you get all the..." Winry started.

"The scars? I got them in a war, end of discussion." Edward remarked coldly as Kimmler began examining Edward's right arm. The Admiral then noticed his brother staring at his body.

"What, you jealous Al?" Edward smirked as he clenched his arms and torso, making his bicep bulge and his well-defined chest and stomach look _even more_ muscular then they already were. Which was saying something. Alphonse didn't admit it, but he was slightly jealous that his brother was more well-built than he was.

"Admiral, how many times do I have to tell you, you need to come in at the beginning of every month to get your checkup on your prosthetics? What happens if you're in the field and your arm or leg conk out on you?" Kimmler sighed.

"Kimmler, you know as well as I do I can still kill a man easily without my prosthetics. It'll be a little more difficult, that's all."

"Jesus, I'll never get over how cocky you can be. Especially with everything you've been through."

"I'm not being cocky. That's the truth, you know what I can do." Edward whispered.

"I know." With that, he pulled out a syringe from his jacket pocket and stuck it in Edward's neck. With a soft grunt, Edward stiffened his neck as the harsh serum was pressed into Ed's bloodstream. Once it was empty, Kimmler, Envy and Bradley inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. _Good. The I-81 is inside him. Now we need to get back to Pearl Harbor before his body flushes it out._ Kimmler thought as he began to remove Ed's arm.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Winry asked.

"He's removing this prosthetic, he's been wanting me to test out a new prosthetic, something more durable for combat." Ed sighed.

"Well, considering what you put yourself through in the field, you could use this new prosthetic. My tech team just finished it up last night. If you like it, I'll give the order for mass production. Just for you." Kimmler smirked as he put the now useless prosthetic on the bed.

"Do you mind if I take a look at this? This looks really advanced." Winry said, looking at the arm. _Yeah, she hasn't changed. Goddamn automail freak._ Edward thought to himself. However, best friend or not, he still had his duty to uphold...

"Sorry, I can't let you look at that." Edward said somewhat gently.

"Come on, Ed, I've built your automail limbs for how long now-speaking of which, what happened to the leg I built?" Winry asked, a little stern.

"Stepped on a land-mine, blew it pieces." Edward lied. Winry's eyes went wide at that.

"And as for looking at the prosthetic, I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't risk that." Kimmler said as he took the arm away.

"Why not?"

"I can't risk letting my secrets run loose, especially to any possible enemies." Edward said as he fished out his cigarettes and lighter from his pants. Winry stared at him as he lite one up. He gave her a look that said, _Yeah, I smoke. Deal with it._

"Okay, here's the new arm." Kimmler replied, bringing out a large black case. Pressing his right hand on the top, the pad glowed blue momentarily and the case unlocked itself. Opening it, Winry's eyes went even wider as she saw the device that was Edward's new arm. It generally looked the same as the one that was just barely removed, but with some noticeable changes. There were Picatinny rails all over the forearm, and the fingers had what appeared to be diamond-tipped claw-like tips at the very end. The wires and hydraulics were no longer visible, having been buried deep within the prosthetic. From the elbow upwards was a large, slightly curved blade. Up at the shoulder, a piece of armor had curved upwards to protect Edward's shoulder, along with additional plating that would cover the same spot on his back, ribs and chest as the old arm. A gauntlet that looked somewhat familiar to Edward was wrapped around the wrist, decorated with two icy-blue lights that flashed on a steady pattern. The entire device, save the blade and gauntlet, were a slightly glossy, jet black color. Like the other one, the words 'Property of the U.S. Navy' were imprinted on the side.

"You forgot the skulls." Edward smirked as Kimmler lifted the arm out of the case.

"You can paint them on, on your own time." Kimmler snarked. Edward's smirk left as he positioned himself.

"Ready?"

"Just do it."

"It won't be like the other one. This thing's more advanced." Winry completely stared at the two.

"Ma'am, may I ask what you're doing?" Kimmler asked. Winry opened her mouth, but Edward cut her off.

"She just wants to see how you're gonna connect this thing to my nerves." He sighed. He was not looking forward to it at all. Whether Amestrian Automail, or state-of-the-art United States Prosthetics, it _always_ hurt.

"And that's where the fun begins with this baby." Kimmler replied with a grin. He pressed a button on the side and wires began to slowly move out of the entrance port. Winry's jaw dropped to the floor; she had never seen anything like it, especially when the wires began to move out into the air, like they were alive.

"What... What are they doing?" she asked.

"Looking for his nerve endings. They're specifically built to attach to his nerves; you can't attach this arm to another person. It'll reject their DNA."

"How can you build such a device?" Winry asked.

"Winry, the year right now is 1917. This ship, along with the fleet and everyone and everything in it came from the year 2062. Its 145 years more advanced than anything you could build." Edward said very coldly. The wires suddenly shot forward into Edward's open stump, causing him to grimace. Out of nowhere, the arm suddenly slammed onto Edward's body, locking itself onto its new owner. Edward gritted his teeth as the arm began to adjust itself to Edward's body and brain. As it did so, a very inhumane growl escaped the Admiral's lips, putting everyone-except Kimmler, Bradley and Envy-on edge. The arm suddenly dropped and Edward began to move it like he had it on for years.

"Jesus, what the hell did you do? Those damn wires hooked themselves up to my spinal cord and my brain. Sure moves well though." Edward said as he hopped off the bed and took a fighting stance, punching the air as he ran through very simple exercises.

"What's with the rails on his forearm?" Envy asked. Kimmler walked into his office-and came out holding a M134 Mini-Gun.

"Here. Try this on for size." He said as he put the weapon on the bed. Edward noticed there was an additional attachment on the weapon meant for Picatinny rails. Softly smirking to himself, he slapped the large gun on the bottom of the forearm; Kimmler had designed what appeared to be a trigger system that would allow for additional weapons to be used. As if he could read Edward's mind, he brought out an M4 assault rifle, a Mk. 11 Grenade Launcher, and an old AA-12 semi-auto shotgun. All with the necessary modifications for use of Picatinny rails. After slapping all the weapons on, Edward's right arm looked more like a large collection of weapons that would rightfully scare the daylights out of any sane man if it was pointed right at you. After moving his arm around, which despite the weight, did not put any strain on the young Admiral, (but scared the shit out of everyone else in the room)

"And all this time I wondered why all our weapons had Picatinny Rails on their frames. Just for me? Or is this design for other prosthetics as well?" Edward asked.

"Well, it's an experimental prototype at the moment. My plan is once we get back to Pearl Harbor, to present this idea to the Pentagon and see if they'll accept it."

"If they don't, I got people on the inside that can fund your new arm. Definitely will change the course of warfare, though." Edward said, eying his new arm somewhat lustfully.

"I don't really see how an arm that can hold four different firearms can change the course of warfare. What would really change it would be an orbiting laser that can burn cities off the face of the earth." Kimmler said with a smile.

"Yeah, I tried that, but it was too damn expensive so I scrapped the project. I thought Project: ODIN would be a good replacement, but again, too expensive. Most of the money went into building this ship instead." Edward muttered, removing the weapons.

"Well, now that the war is over, thanks to you; you'll probably get all the funding you could ever ask for to build any super-weapons program you desire." Bradley said with a smile.

"Well, that's the thing. I don't want to get to overconfident on super-weapons, especially if they don't pan out. That'll leave us at a real disadvantage. Remember, we still have plenty of enemies."

"They won't be bothering us for a while, Ed." Envy muttered.

"Can I ask you a question, Edward?" Roy finally cut in.

"Sure."

"Why do you have two Homunculi on your ship?" Edward went somewhat stiff at that.

"Kimmler, are these guns loaded?"

"Yes."

"Good." After he put his clothes back on, he slapped the guns back on his prosthetic arm. With an evil grin, he turned to the Amestrians...

"Let's go for a walk. I'd like to explain somewhere more comfortable."

* * *

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Amphitheatre, Deck 5, Section 1A x Corridor 3D

"So, you want to know why I have two Homunculi onboard my ship, is that right?" Edward asked, leaning back on the desk.

"Yes, that's right." Roy said, trying to remain calm. Of course, it was difficult to remain calm when the room was filled with Marines and Navy SEALS armed to the teeth and the fleet's commanding officer had a prosthetic arm that packed enough firepower to shred a Humvee.

"What if I were to tell you they weren't Homunculi? That they were human as you and me? Without the use of alchemy, of course?" Edward smirked.

"Then I would say that either you're lying or they've heavily manipulated you to believing they're human." The Fuhrer responded.

"They're human. I promise you that."

"How can you say that?" "Edward, they're screwing with your head!" "Those two look just like Envy and Bradley, what else could they be?!" "Are you working with the Homunculi also?" were among the _many _complaints shouted at Edward.

"Yo, Ed-" Hughes started, slamming the door open.

"NOT NOW!" Edward suddenly bellowed out, sending the Ops Officer back into the hallway, fearful for his life. After calming himself down,

"You think they're Homunculi?"

"What else could they be? They look exactly like Envy and Bradley from this world. And if Dad's theory is right, then if there's a person here in this world, then he could possibly be the same on the other side of the gate. And I think that includes Homunculi!" Alphonse pleaded.

"Okay then, smart guy! Explain to me this! Homunculi are created by some sort of an alchemic process, right? Then how the FUCK IS IT POSSIBLE TO CREATE A HOMUNCULUS IN A WORLD WHERE ALCHEMY IS A FUCKING MYTH?!" Edward bellowed out. Alphonse had no answer to that. However, Edward had had enough.

"Sgt. Collier, escort these men and women back to the flight deck, back to the helicopter that brought them here. Take them back to the beach. I want them off my ship immediately." Edward growled.

"Edward, Son, please, let's talk about this-"

"If you are all not off my ship within the next five minutes, then I will gladly drop you all off in Central City in body bags." Edward cocked the mini-gun for emphasis.

* * *

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Main Bridge, Deck 1

"Admiral, you are one amazing commander, and the United States is a lot safer with you in command. That being said, you are also one amazing asshole." Bradley said firmly.

"Go ahead and say what you want, I made my decision." Edward growled as he watched the transport helicopter take off from the deck.

"Edward, they had a right to believe Comstock and I are their enemies-"

"I've served with you two for how long? They need to show some respect to the men and women under my command, I don't have any patience for any disrespect of any sort."

"This is more than simple disrespect. What were you expecting? That they would simply forget their past and welcome us with open arms, just because we serve under you? In case you forgot, they're not the first from Amestris who had severe problems with trusting Bradley and I." Envy put in. Edward's shoulders slumped, but only slightly.

"Remember when we first met, Edward? It was your first command, the _USS Ticonderoga_. You had Marines follow me around under constant guard for 5 months before I finally confronted you about it. You thought I was a Homunculus as well." Bradley reminded his CO.

"And remember when we first met at the Academy? You actually tackled me and we got into a fist-fight that almost threw us out." Envy remarked.

"Yes, I remember all of that. What's your point?" Edward asked.

"Admiral, please think about this. They haven't seen you for two years. Do you really want them to remember you as the angry Admiral that almost had them shot just because they thought two of his soldiers were their enemy? Probably not the best way to leave your mark. And even if we did leave, where would we go? How would we open up the portal to take us home? None of us know alchemy except you. But you keep saying you gave up your ability to bring your brother back. So we need their help, whether you like it or not." Bradley said firmly. Edward bowed his head and sighed deeply. Deep down, he knew Bradley was right. There was a reason he put Bradley as his XO, and keeping him on the right path was one of the biggest ones.

"You're right, King. It isn't their fault. And... we do need their help. But I sure as hell ain't gonna beg. Not to mention, how am I gonna go about doing that? I just threatened to shoot them all. I'm gonna need something to sweeten the pot if I want their trust back."

"Work on the issue of trust another time. They said their war with Drachma was getting bad."

"I'm not going to sacrifice my men, women, and equipment for their war."

"Then don't focus on the war. Maybe you could offer something as a token of goodwill." Envy put in.

"Like what, a humanitarian mission? They don't have... They are trying to rebuild Ishval." Edward said, the lightbulb in his head flashing on.

"Start there. Help them rebuild Ishval; that might help the issue of trust. And for God's sake, Edward, you need to apologize to them. Even you know that what you did was out of line, Fleet Admiral or not, that's inexcusable, especially for someone of your rank." Envy replied.

"All that coming from a pilot who committed how many crimes during the war?" Edward remarked.

"Don't play 'Holier than Thou' with me. I'm not the only one with dirty hands here."

"That's enough." Bradley barked. The bickering stopped.

"Edward, you know what you need to do."

"I know. God, I've screwed things up badly, haven't I?" Edward sighed.

"You still have a chance to salvage it."

"Alright. Contact the pilot of the chopper, tell him once he sees the beach, he's to land, but that I'm coming out there to talk with the Amestrians." Edward said, slight determination in his eyes.

* * *

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Chopper #123, on route to Aerugo beachhead

The main cargo bay of the King Stallion chopper was deadly quiet. Everyone was trying digest everything that had happened.

"I still can't believe Edward threatened to have us all shot. He's changed, what caused him to change so much? What do you think he saw that made him the way he is?" Alphonse wondered, his voice starting to crack.

"I don't know. I've never seen him act like that ever. I have honestly never thought he'd have it in him to actually want to kill us." Mustang answered. Everyone was busy trying to figure out why their former friend, son, brother, comrade; why Edward was acting so different now. Why he had threatened to have them all killed, why he had two Homunculi on his ship and why he was lying for them, at least that's what some of them thought. The helicopter suddenly slowed down and began to descend.

"Looks like we made it back to the coast." Alex silently mused. Once it touched ground, the back door opened up-to reveal the very person they were talking about standing in the sand. Shirtless, his swords strapped to his back, yet with no other weapons. Almost immediately, everyone got into fighting stances.

"I wouldn't do that. I got 8 gunships and 4 heavily armed VTOL jets in the sky watching my back." Edward replied. They didn't know if it was true or not, but decided not to take the chance.

"Why are you here?" Scar asked. Edward sat down cross-legged.

"I came here to apologize for my actions onboard the _America_."

* * *

May 4th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Main Sickbay, Deck 15, Corridor 1A x Hallway 5B

Down in the sickbay, Hughes was busy working with Kimmler going over the readings of Edward Elric. Even though the I-81 was supposedly in Edward's system, something disturbed Hughes. It had to do with how Edward just screamed at him to not be disturbed at the amphitheater. If the I-81 had done its job... Well, it _should've_ done its job, but still...

"I'm sorry, Hughes, but it's going to take us a while to get the readings in. You know how it all works. I'll let you know when it's finished uploading."

"Please do. Something tells me that Edward's not acting like he should be at the moment. If he finds out..."

"Then we're all in trouble. We'll keep him under wraps, Lt. Col."

(Two hours later)

The readings were finally in. Kimmler dropped his stethoscope and grabbed the papers. His eyes went wide as he read the report. _We're all dead._

* * *

**_So sorry this took so long to post. Like I wrote up on the top, this story just wrote itself. I do have a plot for this story, it's getting to the main plot that's slightly tricky. Hopefully things will go more smoothly from here on out. Also, I have not given up on this story, it's just that writer's block is a real pain in the butt. Keep and eye out for the next chapter!_**


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry this chapter may seem short compared to the others. I'm thinking of doing shorter chapters to help build up the suspense to the main plot of the story, not to mention they are easier for me to write then one massive chapter. This is a slight subplot, but it will play a role in the overall scheme of the story. As I was going over the previous chapters, I realized that Aerugo would know that something was up with a highly advanced USA Navy Fleet parked at their front door. This chapter was the result of that 'epiphany'. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 4

May 7th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Main Bridge, Deck 1

"So this is the latest report from our drones over Ishval. As you can tell, the State Alchemists really did a number on it during the war. Nowhere near what we can pull off, but still, it's not pretty." Edward said, pulling up a holo-image.

"Hmm. Well, rebuilding it won't be a problem. It's getting all that equipment there that will be an issue. We can't just simply fly it all in there, it's gonna take too long. Couldn't we simply use the railroads to move supplies into Ishval?" Bradley asked.

"I asked Mustang about that. He said he would think about it. Translation: No. I think he's afraid I'm gonna use it to smuggle troops and weapons into Amestris and destroy it from the inside out. Of course, if I wanted to attack Amestris, all I'd have to do us launch several nukes at them." Edward sighed, sucking on his cigarette.

"Let's hope it never comes to that. What's the plan?" Hughes asked.

"Well, without the trains, getting supplies to Ishval will take longer. We can use the choppers, easily. However, it would be better if we could use the railroads. Using helicopters alone is going to take too long." Bradley mused.

"What do you think, Admiral?" Hughes asked. Edward, however, was in very deep thought.

"This may seem off topic, but why hasn't Aerugo contacted us yet?" he asked.

"Sir?"

"The country south of Amestris that we'd see if we got rid of the fog cover. I'm just curious why they haven't contacted us yet. We've been here a few days, and so far, Amestris is the only one that knows we are here. Granted, that's because Amestris is the one that responded to our hail. But we sent that out on every known radio frequency and channel we have. So both Aerugo and her surrounding countries use a frequency that we aren't familiar with, or they're not responding due to something else." Ed surmised.

"May I ask as to why you're interested in this? I thought you wanted to rebuild Ishval." Hughes cut in.

"I am. It's just... Okay, think about it. Massive fog cover that doesn't leave. Mustang and the others were able to hear our guns blast an island to pieces, shouldn't the people of Aerugo hear that as well? They're not the quietest weapons ever. And the island we shot up, if that does belong to Aerugo, why haven't they asked who destroyed it? If they asked Amestris, Mustang would've called me up and asked why I destroyed their island. Yet, none of that has happened. Not to mention, I haven't seen a Navy of any sort since we arrived here. The only other sea-faring vessel was that large yacht we saw our first day here. Something just doesn't feel right."

Bradley and Hughes looked at each other. They knew that Edward had the ability to gauge when a situation didn't appear right. And they had to admit, this situation didn't not look right. And considering this was his native world, Edward would hold a massive advantage over them.

"Alright, I'll bite. What are your orders?" Bradley asked.

"Send this message. To anyone within the government of Aerugo, Creta, and any other countries south of Amestris, my name is Edward Elric, commanding officer of a battlegroup from the Navy of the United States of America. If you are hearing this, please respond." After the message was sent,

"Now we wait." Edward muttered.

* * *

May 7th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Central Command Center

(One hour later...)

"Chancellor Hendleton, once again, I thank you for opening up the trade lanes. It is my hope that with our countries at peace, we can begin a new era of trade and prosperity between our two nations." Mustang said.

"So do I, Fuhrer Mustang. I want to thank you for all your help, and I wish you the best of luck." The Chancellor from Creta stood up, shaking hands with the Amestrian Fuhrer. Currently, the two were busy signing a treaty that would officially end the war between Amestris and Creta, which had been winding down ever since the death of Bradley. However, with Edward's fighter jets roaring over the skies, Mustang had to fib and say they were a secret weapon the Amestrians were experimenting with for the defense of his country, and that he couldn't explain more than that. Problem was, every time he heard or saw a US Navy plane fly overhead, he couldn't help but think how long it would be before Edward started raining fire on his country from the skies. When the chancellor left,

"Sir, we're getting a message on the radio. You might want to listen to this." Fuery burst in.

"I'll be right there." Mustang responded, running his hand through his hair. In the main radio room,

"_To anyone within the government of Aerugo, Creta, and any other countries south of Amestris, my name is Edward Elric, commanding officer of a battlegroup from the Navy of the United States of America. If you are hearing this, please respond._" Mustang's eyes went wide at that. Everyone's eyes went wide.

"Sir, you don't... You don't think-" Havoc began.

"He's a professional soldier now. He has to understand what happened down there."

"We should probably tell him. It might be better for him to hear it from us than for him to find out on his own. He might take it as the wrong idea." Riza consoled.

"Okay. Fuery, open a channel to the Admiral."

* * *

May 7th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Main Bridge, Deck 1

"No response, sir."

"Damn. Alright, that's it. Recall all the fighters and drones, even the ones over Amestris and Ishval. Go to Battle Stations, Alert 1. Get the troops ready." Edward ordered.

"You mean..." Bradley asked, knowing what was going to happen.

"Yes. On my authority, and my authority alone, we are setting foot on Aerugo. Drop the fog cover, move the ships into position. I want total air superiority, and the main guns ready to bombard anything that moves. And we don't fire unless fired upon. If they're friendly, all the better. If not, then we defend ourselves. It's more than likely they don't know that we're here. But let's act that not only do they know that we are here, but that they're gonna defend their country to their dying breath. That Fox News is broadcasting them images of our transports even as we speak and that they're digging in to turn this into another Iwo Jima, Okinawa or the Normandy Landings. That they have firearms and vehicles more advanced than ours. Be prepared for anything, bunkers, barb wire, coral reefs, beach defenses, land mines, anything and everything. Understood?" Edward asked.

"Yes sir." Bradley saluted.

"Oh, one more thing. Let's do this without any distractions. Block all communications except between the ships." If only Edward had kept the line open...

Two hours later, the fog cover had retracted, revealing the very advanced and very deadly United States Carrier Strike Group, which had organized itself into a large mushroom-like formation. The Carriers and battleships were at the very rear. The battleships were in a broadside position so all their weapons could be brought to bear, while the carriers were pointed north so as to allow their planes to fly straight towards Aerugo to provide air support. Near the front were the landing craft and transports, inching closer to the shore with the missile cruisers and destroyers on their flanks, ready to hit anything that moved. Jet fighters screamed overhead, ready to attack any enemy targets from the skies. The Marines stormed the beachhead, flanked by fast-attack tanks with gunships and attack fighters in the air. Once a sizeable force was on the ground, the order came to move forward and be on the lookout for any possible enemy contacts.

* * *

May 7th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Central Command Center

"It's been two hours, sir, I still can't get a hold of him, sir. Either his radio is down or he's shutting us off." Fuery said, setting the headset down.

"Son of a bitch. This is bad, this is really bad. If Edward finds out what happened... we can't afford to fight a two-front war. Not against Drachma and his ships at the same time. Keep trying to contact him."

"I'll try. Sir, he may have threatened us because we thought two of his crewmembers were Homunculi. But he seems to be a very professional soldier, shouldn't he understand what happened down there? If he does find anything?" Kain asked.

"We covered our tracks as best as we could, but with the technology he has at his disposal... I don't wanna think about it." Mustang sighed.

* * *

May 7th, 1917

Resembool, Amestris

Rockbell Household

"Sure is one hard Transmutation Circle to figure out. Can't believe this is what pulled Edward's ships through." Alphonse muttered, scratching his head.

"There has to be something we're not seeing. Something different." May wondered. Currently, May, Alphonse, and Hohenheim were busy trying to figure out the transmutation circle that Edward had given them to decipher. Despite two days pouring over it, they had reached a standstill.

"But what could it be? We've tried everything. Xingese Alkahestry, Amestrian Alchemy, Xerxian Alchemy, even alchemy from Creta. But still, no luck." Alphonse muttered as he drank some water.

"And it appeared on an ocean with rough waters in a storm? On a world where alchemy doesn't exist?" May asked.

"That's right. And big enough to pull an entire fleet of military warships through."

"Let's take a look at this again. Maybe we missed something-" Hohenheim was interrupted by the sounds of USA interceptor jets screaming rather close to the house, making the whole building shake. Everyone quickly ran out to see several F-85 Mustang jets, some E-2 Hawkeye EAW's and a few M99 Tactical Drones fly overhead. All of them headed south.

"South. To the coast. What's going on?" Alphonse muttered.

"Is he leaving? We haven't cracked the transmutation circle yet, he's no way to return home." Hohenheim put in. The three continued to watch as Edward's planes screamed overhead, heading back to their rightful master, whom had called them home.

* * *

May 7th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Off the Aerugo Coast

Main Bridge, Deck 1

"Okay, planes and drones are now over Aerugo airspace. No enemy contacts detected, both on land and air. Troops are reporting in, sir. No enemy contacts yet. Either the country has been deserted or they are well hidden." Bradley reported.

"Hmm. This far inland, and no contacts? Something's not right. I want all air assets to comb over every piece of land they find, let's see what's out here. In the meantime, maintain radio silence. And keep our guns ready for anything."

"Admiral, may I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"These is the latest images from our E-2's and our drones. Granted, I know we just barely got them, but something doesn't quite seem right. The country of Aerugo, has it always been covered in very large forests?"

"I spent most of my time in Amestris. I'm afraid my knowledge on Aerugo is extremely limited, but from what I know, it wasn't heavily forested like this. Almost like it's too much..." Edward's voice trailed off, wondering what was going on. He was thrown out of his thoughts, however.

"Admiral Elric, we got a message from Major Kinsler."

"Major Kinsler, Admiral Elric. Come across anyone? Friendly, foe, what's going on?" Edward asked.

"Admiral... You might wanna come down here to see for yourself."

Edward could tell from the Major's tone of voice that _something_ wasn't right.

"Prep a chopper. I'm going inland to see what's wrong. Bradley, you're in command until I get back."

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fuhrer Roy Mustang_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fleet Admiral of the Navy, Edward Elric_

* * *

May 7th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

(Two miles inland from coast of Aerugo)

A single E-55 VTOL transport touched down on the ground. A squad of Navy SEALS exited the vehicle, along with two Humvee's, all heavily armed and ready to dish out pain. One man walked out with them.

"All US forces, the Eagle is on the ground. Repeat, the Eagle is on the ground." The pilot stated. One of the SEALS pulled out a glow-stick of some sort. He pulled the top half off and held it in the air, waiting for the green glow to change color. It never did.

"Okay, the air's good here, for now anyway. Stay on point in case the shit hits the fan." The SEAL ordered the pilot. Slightly annoyed, Edward waved the pilot off as he continued to walk inland while removing his air-filter mask, letting the device dangle from his neck. The pilot took the hint and flew away, leaving the Fleet Admiral and a very heavily-armed strike force on the black dirt.

"Alright, people. We move north and link up with the 5th Armored along with Platoons, ALPHA, OMEGA, and BETA. Challenge is 'Icepick', response is 'Cold Whiskey'. Hump out." Edward ordered.

"Yes sir." Came the collective reply.

_I understand why they always have the best SEALS onboard come with me whenever I hit the dirt, to make sure I stay alive. But still, I can take care of myself. _ Edward thought as he led the team into the forest, his hands gripping his assault rifle. As the team moved forward to link up with the rest of the American units, he couldn't help but wonder what happened here.

_The place sure is forested. Maybe I'm getting worked up for nothing. But even so, a country like Aerugo with the same technological level as Amestris, or near-same, should be able to talk to us. Just some tweaking with the radios is all it takes and BOOM! They'll be talking to a supercarrier from the future of an alternate world. Unless the whole country of Aerugo decided to forsake technology and live as fucking Ewoks in a damn forest. Fucking Planet of the Apes shit and all that. Seriously, though. What the hell happened here? I mean, this looks like a goddamn suburban neighborhood. So why'd they let the trees grow out of control here?!_

"Admiral, explain to me why there are trees that are splitting the houses in half?" Pvt. Orison asked.

"Don't know, private. If they let the trees grow this big, then the streets should be torn up as well." Edward muttered as two attack helicopters flew overhead. Anyone would've heard that. _Anyone_. And yet, no one came out on the street to see the noise, or to see the American soldiers rolling up the roads. Edward simply couldn't help but shake the feeling that he was in a ghost town.

"Something's not right. Let's keep moving north, meet up with the rest of the men. Find out what's happening here." Edward ordered, racking the bolt on his rifle. It pleased the Admiral to know that he had grabbed the new 7.62 High Explosive/Armor Piercing/Incendiary rounds for his rifle. One bullet would be more enough to split a man the size of Major Alex Armstrong in half.

* * *

May 7th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Central Command Center

(Three hours later...)

Fuhrer Roy Mustang and his team waited in the Fuhrer's Office, all of them keeping their eyes on the phone on Roy's desk, just waiting for _that_ call to come in. _It's been over three hours. If this is some sort of psychological warfare that Edward's using on us, it's working more than perfectly._

"Come on, Ed, just call us already." Mustang hissed beneath his breath.

"Sir?" Havoc asked.

"I don't like this sitting around and waiting. Everyone heard the broadcast, he wants to talk to Aerugo. Now, either his hands are really full commanding a fleet of ships like his, or he's grown overwhelmingly patient during the 15 years he was over on the other side."

"But if he were to see what happened to Aerugo? What would he do then?" Falman asked.

"I don't know. I really don't know." Mustang sighed. That's when the phone rang. Suddenly nervous, Mustang took in a very deep breath before picking up the receiver.

"This is Fuhrer Roy Mustang, to whom am I speaking to?"

"_I know I may have the rank of Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy, but there's no need for modesty or humility when it comes concerning me._"

"Admiral Elric." Roy's mouth was suddenly dry.

"_The one and only. In case you were wondering why I didn't call your secretary, I have the ability to directly phone any line I see fit. You know, a thousand years difference in technology and all. But... I was just calling because... Well, I've been trying to get ahold of Aerugo. I'm on the USS America, and I've managed to contact Creta, but they just gave me the run around, saying their Chancellor was very busy. I've been trying to contact Aerugo, but I haven't got anything. Either their radio wires are in serious need of repair or they're using a radio frequency of some sort we haven't used yet. Just... I was just wondering if you could... If you could help me out with that._" Edward said very casually. Mustang, however, was practically sweating bullets. _Don't show him, Roy. Don't let him know that he has the upper hand in this._ Mustang quickly thought to himself.

"What would you like me to do?"

"_If it's possible, I'd like you to call the leader of Aerugo. See what's going on. More specifically, the person in the Aerugian government who's in charge with their transportation. Railroads, and the like. If I can get their permission, that would help me move supplies up through Aerugo into Ishval. I'm still planning on helping them rebuild it. With the technology and equipment I have at my disposal, I could have most of the country completely rebuilt in as little as 3 months."_

"Okay. As far as I know, their radio stations should still be operational. Would you like me to head down there and notify them of the situation?" Roy asked.

* * *

May 7th, 1917

US Marine Corps/Navy SEAL/Delta Force Unified Task Force #22

Capital City of Aerugo

"No, I trust you to contact them. Just let me know when you've gotten ahold of them. One more thing. Even if I do get their permission, I'll still need to use the railroads in southern Amestris to get my supplies into Ishval."

"_Right. Okay, you have my permission, I'll make the necessary preparations."_

"Thanks. I'll see around, Fuhrer."

"_You too, Admiral._"

Edward cut the link and draped the headset around his neck. He took a good look at his surroundings. UFT #22 was currently in the Capital City of Aerugo. Like the rest of the towns and villages they passed through, it was somewhat overgrown with vegetation, although most of the buildings were still standing, even if they were in a serious state of decay. The particular building that Edward was standing in front appeared to be a large radio station of some sort, albeit in serious need of repair.

"So, what's the verdict?" Bradley asked, slinging his rifle on his back.

"Anything new?" Edward asked.

"No. Scouts keep reporting the same thing. Villages, towns, cities, all overgrown with vegetation. Infrastructure in disrepair, vehicles rusting in the streets, looks like an epidemic of some sort hit this place. Maybe a disease of some sort. Might explain why there is no-one here to greet us, either with open arms or a rifle in their hands." Bradley surmised.

"Admiral, sir, you might wanna check this out." A Delta Force operator interrupted the Commander. He led his two CO's over to a large chunk of an abandoned brick building. At a first glance, it appeared normal, if you discounted the overgrown vegetation. But upon closer inspection,

"Son of a Bitch. Alchemy marks?" Edward whispered.

"Sir?" Bradley asked. Edward wondered about his next decision. He had enough firepower to destroy any opposition that he could encounter, and he could always radio for more backup. However, unless either Aerugo was developing some sort of alchemical weapon or it backfired, Edward could think of only one country that not only had alchemy but the ability to use it as an effective weapon: Amestris.

He thought about it, though. Could Mustang really have ordered an assault on Aerugo? Maybe if Aerugo began an invasion or declared war against Amestris. Then their war would be justified. But there was something about Mustang on the radio that he couldn't help but notice: He sounded almost nervous about Edward calling him. Edward couldn't blame him, though, considering he had been flying his planes over Amestris ever since he arrived and he threatened to shoot him. But his nervousness only increased when Edward mentioned Aerugo. Did the Fuhrer know something that he didn't want to release? And then there was him saying he would contact Aerugo. But to Edward's eyes, the radio station looked destroyed. So either Mustang had no idea about what happened here, or Mustang was hiding something. The alchemy marks wasn't going to save Roy's ass either, unless Aerugo was conducting an alchemical experiment of some sort. But the video feed Edward had been getting from his planes and drones showed that there were no large laboratories anywhere in the capital city. The trees were big, but nowhere as big as to conceal a whole laboratory building.

_Roy Mustang, what are you hiding from me?_ Edward thought.

"Admiral, what's our next move?" Bradley asked, bringing Edward back to the real world.

"Find the train stations, get the engines working. Send word back to CSG-21 that I want construction and farming equipment ready to move immediately."

"That takes care of Ishval. But what about Aerugo? Something happened here, Edward."

"Let's keep this in the dark, King. We'll find out the answers in due time." Edward said somewhat darkly.

* * *

**Like I said above, I'll probably be writing shorter chapters from now on. They're easier for me to write, and I've always been a slight fan of stories with multiple chapters. I don't want to write out my whole story in only a few chappies. Again, what's going on with Aerugo, it will play a role in the War of Drachma, especially if Edward gets involved. Read &amp; review, please!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Next chapter of Fullmetal's War. Hope you guys like it, enjoy!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 5

"_Here they come!_" "_Blue shirts to the left, watch your fire!_" "_Be advised, MRAP and STRYKER armored vehicles will arrive on your position, 2 mikes out for additional support._"

Edward dodged a spare bullet and slammed his fist into the opposing fighter, sending the poor soldier back with a caved-in chest. Quickly rolling on his back, he slammed down next to a few U.S. Delta Force operators.

"What's the skinny?" the Admiral asked, slamming a new clip into his rifle.

"Blue-shirts are regrouping for another counter-attack, sir! Gunships from the 14th and the 8th are routing off their escape, and Envy's leading a unit of A-10 Tankbusters to make mincemeat of their armor!"

"Good, that'll keep 'em busy! You see that large building up there? We're gonna take it! Clear it all out!" Edward ordered. Hopping the rubble, Edward and the Delta Force operators began picking off enemy combatants before they could react to the new threat. As they slaughtered the enemy opposition, which was only helped by their Exo-skeletons,

"_Admiral Elric, this is Commander Bradley. I'm sending in additional Marines and two squads of Green Beret's. Lieutenant Hinckley is bringing in an additional battalion from the north to meet up at the main building._"

"Don't worry about us, XO. We'll be fine. Just keep the rain falling." Edward cackled as napalm missiles continued to slam into the city, setting everything they touched ablaze. Apache and Cobra gunships soared overhead, dropping deadly ordinance on whatever moved that wasn't affiliated with the United States Military. _Crucified _by _Disturbed_ was currently being blasted out of the speakers for a psychological effect on both sides. Pump up the Americans, wear down their current enemy.

The air lingered with the smell of rotting flesh, fresh blood, spent gunpowder and napalm... filled with the sounds of explosions, gunfire, men and women alike screaming, helicopters and fighter jets screaming in the air... Death had come to the enemy, and the Bulldogs and Seals were here to unleash their wrath. The Eagle was among them, whom had no mercy to those in its path. Admiral Elric successfully led his team to the aforementioned building.

"Flash-bangs. Get ready for close encounters. Go to the night vision. Ready?"

"Ready."

"GO, NOW!" he yelled. Flash bangs were thrown in, disorienting the buildings defenders, leaving them helpless against the American invaders. The 7.62 AP/HE/I rounds turned the soldiers into burning slabs of bloody meat. Once the bullet entered its victim, the armor-piercing capabilities ensured that it would penetrate its target, no matter the opposition. The incendiary capabilities helped it burn its way through, leaving a scorch mark. The high-explosive was what really made the Marines smile. The bullet itself was the warhead that exploded with the force of a .50 caliber round. One was deadly. Seeing that the AR-85 assault rifle, the standard rifle for the U.S. military which looked an AK-47 and an M4 got together and had a kid, had the ability to go either full auto or a 3-round burst for greater accuracy, the results were _devastating_.

It didn't help whoever was on the opposing end of the rifle that the AR-85 rifle was fitted with a duel-drum magazine, which was two drums side-by-side that each held 75 rounds, 150 rounds in total. Most soldiers, however, also used the older, yet more comfortable 45-round 'banana' magazine. It was very common to tape two magazines together upside down, so when one was spent, it just had to be ejected, flipped around and slapped back in. On the top, sides, and bottom of the barrel of the rifle were Picatinny rails. Standard armaments for the AR-85 were either a Mk. 11 grenade launcher or a M155 close-quarters shotgun mount, both of whom could be swapped out very quickly. On the rails could be seen a small, yet very powerful LED light and a green laser. The rifle also came with the most advanced rifle sight, the T-5 Hybrid scope. It could switch between night-vision, the so-called 'cyborg' vision, thermal optics, and could range from a 1x zoom to a 550x zoom for sniping missions, which usually required a longer barrel for the rifle.

The rifle also came with a flip-out bayonet which could also be shot off like an archer releasing an arrow from his bow, increasing the damage of the rifle. The best thing about the whole package was that, like everything else in the United States Military, it was designed to operate in any environment, whatsoever. Urban, jungle, underwater, sand dunes and mud pits, in the vacuum of space, etc. It was the best rifle any soldier could ask for. To add the cherry on top of the whole package, it was highly resistant to EMP blasts. And even if the blast got through, you could still fire the weapon, albeit without the ammo-read counter and the electronic sight.

Once the room was re-decorated with gaping holes and body parts, Edward signaled for his men to move out. Slamming a large hole in the wall, they quickly activated their 'All-Purpose Mega-Grip' gloves and began to scale the wall to the top of the building at an incredible pace. Ah, the wonders of modern United States Military technology at your disposal. Once at the top, they took positions and began to rain fire down on the helpless defenders as choppers and fighter jets roared overhead, setting the city on fire. _What a beautiful sight._ Edward thought with a smile.

"Admiral Elric, this is Commander Bradley. I'm shutting the holo-imager deck down, you're needed on the bridge immediately." Came the stern voice of the ship's XO.

"I understand, Commander." Edward sighed as the image of the burning city faded away to reveal a high-tech holographic room. Edward sighed as he looked around at the steel room, imaging cameras positioned around the room. _Sure glad I had this installed on-board. Makes planning our missions so much easier. _He thought as he slung the rifle on his back and walked into the hallway.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Bridge, Deck 1

Aerugo Coast

"So, how was the training?" Bradley asked.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Glad I had that deck installed before I burned down Moscow. So, what do you need me for?"

"It's about Ishval. Two things about rebuilding that country. One: We're taking too long to move equipment and supplies there. Yes, we're flying them inland, but it's taking too long to load and unload equipment into and off the choppers and then onto the trains. Not to mention, we never officially received permission from the Fuhrer that we could use his railroads. I think he said we could so the matter would drop. The other matter... I know we have constant drones flying over, giving us images of the country. However, an actual map of the country would be much better. Not to mention, Mustang _still_ hasn't called us back concerning whether we can use the railroads in Aerugo or not."

"I know. But we don't know what happened. I'd bet my ship that Mustang knows something, and he doesn't want to spill the beans."

"If he's afraid of you, then I would say that he's right to be afraid."

Edward sighed. It had been a few days since he held his friends and family hostage on-board his ship at gunpoint and threatened to kill them. While Edward wished Bradley would stop reminding him of that and just move on, he also knew that his actions that day would greatly hinder not only his relationships with everyone he cared about, but also hinder whether Mustang would give him information concerning Amestris and her surrounding countries. However, Edward had many ways of obtaining information. Whatever he wanted, he got.

"I think it's time we sat down and had a chat with him. I'll call him up, see if he's willing to meet with us. If he says yes, then we move out. And no bodyguards this time. I can take care of myself." Edward sighed, hoping to hell that Bradley would _finally_ get the message this time.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

(One hour later...)

"... _Stand on the brink of my own demise, fallen again for another, Mistress of burden to idolize, hoping that one of them will decide, to let me in..._"

The song _Mistress_ by _Disturbed_ blared on the Humvee radio, making Edward softly sing along to the song. Ever since he heard his first glimpses of the musical genre known as 'heavy metal', he had practically fallen in love with it.

Currently, he was in the back of a Humvee with Bradley by his side, and three additional Marines. One driving, one riding shotgun and the other on the turret. There were five additional Navy SEAL's magnetically attacked to the outside of the vehicle as well, adding more firepower.

"Commander, would you mind telling me why we have five Stryker's, 6 Bradley APC's, five extra Humvee's, four Abrams tanks, three Black Hawk's, three Huey's, a King Stallion, five Apache's, five Cobra's, three F-35's, four Harriers, and Lt. Cmdr. Comstock in his Thunderbird with us? And, if you excuse the Apache's, Cobra's, the 35's, the Harriers and John's Thunderbird, why every vehicle in the convoy is crammed with as many Marines and Spec Op troopers they can carry?" Edward asked, annoyed.

"For your protection, Admiral. In case you haven't forgotten, you don't take your safety seriously. Whether in this world or not, we can't afford to lose you. I have additional troops and gunships ready to bust you out in case the shit hits the fan-"

"Well, not just me. Everyone here. I don't leave men and women behind. And you know as well as I do what I'm capable of doing on the battlefield. Mustang doesn't have anything that can stop me. Trust me, I know."

"What, did you ever fight with Mustang when you lived here?"

"We held a few sparring sessions before." Edward muttered almost sourly.

"Okay. Let's say he did beat you in the past. That was then. What about now?"

Edward stopped looking out the window and stared at his XO. His grin and the purely evil look in his eyes sent shivers down Bradley's spine. However, it was the tone of his voice that _really_ made Bradley nervous.

"I'd destroy him."

_Maybe I should've added five more Battalions. For Mustang's protection. If Edward snaps, God help him and whoever else is in there._ Bradley thought. However, he would still fight to protect his friend and superior officer. That much was made clear when he slammed a fresh clip into his Desert Eagle and chambered in a fresh round.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

Central Command Center

Central City, Amestris

"Well, this is it. The Central Command Center." Edward muttered as the convoy pulled up to the front. It didn't help that everyone on the streets, military and civilian alike, stared at them all.

"Why's everyone staring at us, Admiral?" the driver, Sgt. Lesnar, asked.

"They've never seen an armored column from the United States Military before, let alone Navy gunships and attack planes." As the Humvee idled on the road, an Amestrian soldier walked up, obviously stunned and slightly afraid at the raw firepower that sat in front of the main gate. Walking up to the main Humvee, he gulped and prayed the U.S. Marines and Spec Ops didn't start shooting. _These guys look like they could tear the Briggs Battalion to shreds. Hell, even one of these soldiers could probably kill a whole squad of Briggs men just by his own hands. Where did they come from?_ He thought to himself. Rapping his knuckles on the driver's window, the American Marine rolled it down.

"Soldier, I'm Sgt. Lesnar. Your Fuhrer Mustang gave our Admiral Elric permission to speak with him."

"Y-yes, that's right. Um, are you gonna be bringing in all your vehicles into the courtyard?" The Amestrian asked.

"Is that a problem?" Lesnar asked.

"The elevator will only allow for one to two vehicles." He then took a long look at the Abrams tanks and the Stryker APC's. Their massive size made them war machines to behold.

"And I don't know if the elevator will be able to carry some of your tanks." He said, completely stunned by their size and the raw, destructive firepower they oozed.

"That's okay. Just let the Humvee's in, the rest can stay out here."

"Okay, you're cleared to go." the soldier saluted. The USA Humvee's roared forward onto the elevator, which brought them up to the courtyard, two vehicles at a time. While that was happening, the tanks and APC's formed a large perimeter outside the main gate, ready to destroy any opposition. The gunships and VTOL jets then circled the Command Center, ready to drop fire on anything that was a threat to Admiral Elric. Up in the Fuhrer's main room,

"That's an awful lot of firepower." Mustang mused as he watched several Hummers roar into the courtyard.

"Yeah, and that's not all." Havoc muttered, pointing at the gunships and VTOL jets surrounding the main building.

"Let's play this cool. If it does turn into a shoot-out, then be ready." He advised.

"Do you really think we have anything that match what he has? Even if we did succeed in killing Edward, heaven forbid that, they could just simply bomb us from afar. We don't have anything to stop that." Riza stated, even as she slid revolver in an inner-holster inside her jacket.

"Still, does make you wonder why he wants to speak with me personally. He did say it was about Ishval, about wanted additional information concerning the country."

"That also makes me a little nervous. Why is he so interested in rebuilding Ishval?" Riza asked.

"Maybe he saw something on the other side that's wanted him to rebuild Ishval. Maybe he's doing it so the issue of trust can be rebuilt."

"Can we really trust him again, sir?"

Roy sat in silence at that, his chin resting on his knuckles. In all honesty, the events of _that_ day had greatly disturbed him. He had _never_ thought that Edward would actually go so far as to threaten to kill him.

"If he can rebuild Ishval, then that's a start. But I'm more concerned with Drachma. Not to mention what he could find in Aerugo." _Not to mention everything else that's happened since he left. I don't regret it, though. None of it._ Mustang thought to himself.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

Central Command Center

Central City, Amestris

Admiral Elric led Commander Bradley and his 'bodyguard's down the hallways of the main building. All the while catching glances and stares from the Amestrians working there. The whispers were what really caught his attention. _Holy shit, that's the Fullmetal Alchemist. Where did he go? Where did he get the weapons? Is that King Bradley? I thought he died during the uprising. _Etc., etc. The American super soldiers paid them no mind. But still...

_It's been a long time since I've roamed these halls. Last I was here was when Envy dragged Alphonse and I to meet with Fuhrer Bradley. And here I am, with Commander Bradley, my XO, and several super soldiers from the United States Military, to meet with Fuhrer Mustang. This oughta go over very well. They're security, however, is extremely lax. Despite my rank, I could never have pulled this off at the Pentagon and the White House. These guys are just asking for Central Command to be invaded._

When they entered the secretary's office, she was very surprised-rightfully so-to see several heavily armed United States soldiers enter the room. Edward walked up to the desk, slapping his rifle on his back.

"Fleet Admiral Edward Elric to see Fuhrer Roy Mustang." He said. The woman quickly looked at her papers and saw that he was right.

"Go right on in, the Fuhrer's expecting to see you."

"Thank you." Edward walked over to the main door, held his rife in his right hand and rapped his knuckles on the wood door, leaving faint dent marks in the rich wood.

"Enter." Came Mustang's voice.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Mustang's Unit_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: SEAL Team 9_

* * *

Fuhrer Roy Mustang and his team had had fully expected Edward and his XO to come in wearing formal dress uniforms of some sort. He was _not_ expecting the two to come wearing combat uniforms, Exo-skeleton's, assault rifles in their hands, their swords on their backs and enough various grenades, knives, booby traps, land mines, and other small-arms that enabled the two to fight a small war. Not to mention Edward's 'bodyguard's, which were Navy SEAL's and Army Rangers, all wearing similar armor, uniforms and weapons. Bradley and Ed were the only ones with swords on their persons, but every American in the room had a military-grade bow and a quiver of explosive-tipped arrows on their backs. Also, they each carried a rocket launcher, a heavy machine gun, a grenade launcher and a sniper rifle strapped to their backs. _These guys look like they could take on the entire brigade at Briggs and win. No, scratch that. You could send every soldier stationed at Briggs and the East and these Americans would slaughter them all. Is this what they carry into the battlefield? Might explain why Edward's so damn muscular._ Mustang thought to himself as he observed his guests.

"Last I checked, the Fuhrer's Office wasn't so big like this. Apparently, when they rebuilt it, they had to make it large enough to satisfy that damn big-headed ego of yours?" Edward said with a smirk as he put his rifle on his back. Since Bradley and the American Spec Ops troopers didn't know of Ed's relationship-if it could be called that-with Mustang, they mentally prepped themselves for a shoot-out.

"Well, I wouldn't be calling me out on having a big ego when you consider how big your aircraft carrier is, considering you helped to build it. Trying to compensate for something?" Mustang smirked.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT, YOU MORALLY BANKRUPT-" Edward's rant ended short when a strong arm gripped his left shoulder.

"Admiral, do I need to remind you where you're at? Why we're here?" Bradley asked.

"I know why I'm here. Doesn't mean I can't catch up on an old friend. Even if he is morally bankrupt with a god-like complex." Edward said with a smile.

"And you're still as short as ever with a nasty temper. Didn't think foreign militaries would let a man with your height and attitude command such an impressive fleet of ships."

"Yeah, you're still the same old bastard I remember you as." Edward said with a smile.

"So, you wanted information about Ishval, correct?' Mustang replied, getting down to business.

"That's right. We have drones and planes flying over it, giving us up to date information on the country, but we don't have any accurate information concerning its actual physical size. The sooner we have that, the quicker and more efficiently we can move our supplies inward and start rebuilding it." Bradley stated.

"Alright, I understand that. This is our most recent map of the country of Ishval. You two can sit on the couch if you'd like, there's no reason to stand." Mustang gestured to the two large couches while he grabbed some large maps.

"Thanks, just let us take the Exo-skeletons off." Ed muttered. He typed in a few commands on his waist and the steel rods suddenly went limp and opened up. Edward flexed his arms as he walked out of the suddenly life-less contraption. He then picked it up and placed it in the corner of the room.

"No one touches that, understand?" Edward asked, his voice filled with authority. _Yeah, he's definitely changed._ Mustang thought as he laid the map out on the main table.

"We've been starting in the Aslan District, and move more east. We were hoping that, due to the railroads, we'd be able to move supplies in from Xing." Hawkeye explained.

"But because of your conflict with Drachma, you're afraid that the railroads might be targets of terror attacks. And also, due to said conflict, you're spending most of your budget on the front and sending more supplies to the border. Can't say I blame you." Bradley surmised as he removed his eye-patch, revealing the scar tissue underneath, along with the empty black hole in his head. Despite all the carnage that Edward had seen in his years in the military, he would _never_ get used to seeing that.

"Commander, please, schedule an appointment with Dr. Kimmler and get an implant."

"I'm perfectly fine-"

"That's an order." Edward growled. An awkward silence hung in the room. Bradley sighed as he put his eyepatch back on.

"How accurate is this map?" the Admiral asked.

"Barely two days old. Took us a while to get everything down to specs." Havoc shrugged.

"It'll do. You said there was a railroad running into Ishval from Xing?" Ed asked.

"Yes. We just finished constructing it a few months ago. But with the war-"

"I understand. Well, let me take care of Ishval. If I have the use of the trains, I can get supplies in there very quickly." Edward said confidently.

"There is also the matter of whether the Ishvalans will let us in or not. It is their land, they have every right to deny us access. And considering the weapons and technology we have, that's going to scare them." Bradley put in.

"Hmm. I'll talk with the head chieftain, let him know that you don't mean any harm." Mustang replied.

"Thanks. But, please reinforce this: my men aren't police. They're soldiers, most of them are battle-hardened veterans. They're not trained to keep the peace, they're trained to kill whoever attacks them. The Ishvalans have already seen enough bloodshed, I don't want my soldiers to add to their misery."

"I'll pass the message along. Will you be needing a copy of this map to take back to your ship?" Mustang asked.

"No, that's fine." Edward said, standing on his feet. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, very thin, rectangular device. Tapping a few commands on the pad, a thin, red beam shot out from bottom, gracing the map from left to right, top to bottom. Once it was done, the beam retracted into the device. The Amestrians were shocked to see it.

"What-what's that?" Breda asked.

"Just a scanner, allows me to scan and get a complete copy of what was imprinted on the paper. Can I see a map of Amestris too? I just want to get my bearings right with the country." Edward said rather nonchalantly.

"Um, of course, yes." Hawkeye said, clearly shocked by the display of Edward's highly advanced technology. After laying the map on the table, Edward did the same thing.

"Well, that's that-"

"Admiral Elric, Commander Bradley, Lt. Cmdr. Hughes requests us to head back to the _America_ immediately. Has something he wants to talk to you two about." One of the Marines interrupted.

"Okay, tell him we're on our way." Edward said, pocketing the device.

"Wait, so that's it?" Mustang asked.

"Well, I'd like to stay around and catch up with everyone. But I still have my duties to uphold on my ship. Maybe another time." Edward said, slipping back into his Exo-skeleton armor. As Edward opened the door,

"Admiral-Edward, if you're not busy tonight, maybe we can catch up over some dinner." Mustang offered.

"I really appreciate that, I do. Unfortunately, I'm gonna have to pass on that. I'm gonna be very busy. Maybe another time." Edward said with a smile. Just as he was about to leave,

"Oh, I almost forgot. Were you able to get ahold of the Aerugian government official who's in charge with their transportation? If I have their permission to use their railroads to move supplies through Aerugo to the border?" Edward asked. Mustang stiffened, but only slightly. No-one but Edward noticed it, however.

"I've still been trying to get ahold of them, with no luck. But you do have my permission to use their railroads if you need to. If anyone gives you trouble, just tell them to call me. I'll take care of it." Mustang said with a rather firm voice.

"Okay. I got something for you. Here." Edward tossed a very small bag to the Fuhrer, who caught it.

"What's this?"

"The 520 cenz I owe you. Kept it after all these years, figured I might as well return it to you. I did tell you I'd pay you back once you reached the rank of Fuhrer, right?" Edward smirked. Roy opened the bag and found that Edward was right. The American soldiers then left-all but one. Edward closed the door. A very determined expression was on his face, and his eyes drilled holes right into Mustang's mind as he walked into the center of the room, his rifle in his hands.

"Rebuilding a country is no easy task, and it's gonna take time. You should know about that. Considering that the men and women under my command will probably be in Ishval for a while, I have only this to say: If you, or any other Amestrian, makes any aggressive actions against my soldiers and officers, I will consider that an act of war against the United States of America, and I _will_ respond accordingly." Turning around, Edward headed to the door. Opening it, he turned around and looked at his friend's, their faces. The look in their eyes. A smirk crept on the Admiral's face.

"If that were to happen, I'll give Amestris five hours to mount an effective resistance against my forces, and I use the word 'effective' _very _loosely. And that's _with _all the State Alchemists armed with Philosopher's Stones. I'll see you around, Flame." Edward said, leaving the room.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

"Edward, I think the reason Fuhrer Mustang offered you dinner was to make the peace. I don't think it was wise of you to turn him down." Bradley consoled his superior officer as the armored convoy roared down the main road leading to the outskirts of Central City.

"He's hiding something about Aerugo. I know it. He's trying to give us the run around."

"I agree with you all the way. So, what's your plan?"

Edward handed Bradley a data-pad with a list of personal and supplies he would need.

"Send this information back to CSG-21. I want SEAL Team 9 ready to move out this evening. Everyone and everything on that list is going out. Recon and Intel gathering."

"I'll make sure everything is ready. What's your target?"

"The Central Command Center."

* * *

**The thing about Edward being a fan of heavy metal music is from a head-canon I saw a while back, and I think heavy metal music would suit the Fullmetal Alchemist just fine. Next chapter you'll get to see the Fleet Admiral/Fullmetal Alchemist in action with some Navy SEALS against Amestris. This will be very interesting. Review, please!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Sorry this took a while. I was busy camping with my dad over the weekend, so I was unable to work on this chapter. I know this chapter is probably one of my shorter, if not my shortest one, but please bear with me. This one wrote itself. Hope you guys enjoy this one!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 6

May 11th, 1917

SSN/X USS Clint Eastwood

Carrier Strike Group-21

Edward inhaled the cold, evening air deeply through his nostrils. He stared up at the night sky, admiring the beauty of the brilliant stars dotting the night sky. _Such a beautiful night. Makes for a good Recon Op._ he thought as he returned to his task at hand: checking to see if his AR-85 rifle was in working condition. It was. Slamming a clip into the weapon and slamming the bolt back, he then turned to SEAL Team 9.

They were currently on the deck of the _USS Clint Eastwood_, one of the submarines in CSG-21, getting ready for their mission.

"Okay, people listen up. This is Operation: WEREWOLF. We're sneaking into the main Central Command Center of Amestris. It's their Pentagon and White House combined in one. According to the map that I brought back, there's a river that runs through Aerugo into Amestris alongside Central City. Once we're there, we should be able to find a way into the main building. It won't be hard to miss, its right in the center of the city. We're dubbing the river 'Potomac.' Once we're inside the building, we'll make our way to the main library, along with any rooms that may contain any sensitive documents. Anything that has 'Top Secret' stamped on the front is considered vital information. Tranquilizers and live rounds on this mission. If it gets too bad, we shoot our way out. Commander Bradley has informed me that he has several Blackhawks and Harriers ready to pull us out if we need it. But we won't need them. Understand?" Edward asked.

"Yes sir!" the SEALS barked back. The team was equipped with standard scuba gear, along with the Exo-skeletons, AR-85 rifles, silencers, standard grenades, repelling gear, wire cutters, blow-torches, Det-Cord and C4 explosives, smoke grenades, night vision goggles, Compound bows and standard bows for silent kills. Only one sniper rifle would go along with two Squad Assault Weapons for extra firepower.

Although the nuclear submarine was parked at the river entrance, it could never traverse its waters; it was too shallow. However, it was still deep enough that scuba team could skim the bottom without making any noticeable ripples in the water. The team's mode of transportation would be an SDV, or SEAL Delivery Vehicle. Unfortunately, to launch it required the entire submarine to be submerged.

"Captain Keile, submerge the ship. Commander Bradley, Mission is a-go. I repeat, Operation: WEREWOLF is a-go." Edward declared before he put on his breathing gear. The massive, black submarine slowly disappeared under the surface of the water, slowly heading back to the fleet. A lone SDV left the submarine and headed to the river, towards Central City.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Main Bridge, Deck 1

Coast of Aerugo

Commander Bradley inhaled deeply from his nostrils. He hated whenever the Admiral went out on missions like this. Despite that Edward was probably the best hand-to-hand combatant onboard the ship and an expert in weapons and combat, he knew anything could go wrong. Here, the factor of the unknown was raised even higher because they had next to no information concerning Amestris.

_Maybe that's why Edward chose to lead this mission. He knows this world better than anyone else. But why is he doing this? I want to know what Fuhrer Mustang is hiding too, but is he taking this too far? It's only been 8 days and he's already sneaking into their main command center. Most of the time, he starts off by bombing the shit out of an enemy country, then he sneaks in. I just hope he doesn't go all Terminator on the Amestrians, or pull off another Wolverine. Dammit, King, don't get distracted now._ Commander Bradley thought to himself. He was vaguely aware of Hughes and Kimmler walking onto the bridge. He felt a tap on his shoulder, causing him to turn around.

"We need to talk." Hughes said sternly.

"About what?"

"It's about Admiral Elric. About the I-81." Kimmler replied. Bradley's eyebrows raised a little bit.

"Let's talk somewhere private." Bradley said, leading the two into the Admiral's Ready Room. Once it was secured,

"What is it?" The one-eyed XO asked. Kimmler sighed, but presented his findings.

"The I-81 is having absolutely no effect on Edward at all; his body has grown completely used to it. I went over some of the Admiral's old records and re-read the notes I made whenever his body had exhausted his supply of the I-81. They vary, but there are several things that remain the same: a massive headache on the morning when the I-81 is no longer in effect, extreme paranoia, and aggressiveness that borders on violent acts. The second day we were here, he was paranoid about his friends and family coming onboard, right? Why else would he threaten to shoot down the chopper carrying them onboard? Or actually having them cuffed and held at gunpoint on the deck? And then he goes so far as to threaten to kill them himself. Two days ago, he came in telling me that he had experienced a severe headache on our 2nd day here.

I continued my research and ran more scans on his body. Now, we the three of us know that the scanners actually do work on him. But if he doesn't know that, the better."

"Unless he remembers everything that happened to him. Once that happens, who knows what'll happen." Hughes remarked.

"That's what I'm afraid of. That his memories will come back. When will that happen?" Bradley asked.

"I really don't know. They could come back 5 months from now, or 5 years, or even 5 days. Hell, they could come back 5 minutes from now."

"That's something we're gonna have to risk. I sure wish we had known. We could've stopped it." Bradley muttered.

"None of us knew him. Hell, it wasn't until I began doing research into all those disappearances and my strike team found him in that damn facility... or what was left of it after Edward's rampage that we became aware of his existence." Hughes said sadly as he wiped his glasses.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

SEAL Team 9 slowly surfaced in the underground rivers that ran underneath Central Command Center. Their weapons out and ready for anything, the deadly warriors quickly scanned their surrounding area and found nothing.

"Admiral, where are we?"

"Looks like the waterways underneath Central Command. I hope. It's been a while since I've been down here. Use the Tranq's. But if the shit hits the fan, go to live rounds." Edward ordered.

"Yes sir."

The SEAL's quickly made their way down the halls, the lights and laser sights illuminating the darkness. Edward could only wonder where they were.

_Sure wish I knew where we are. We could be anywhere underneath Central City. Wait. The hallway, it's curving now. Does that... Okay, first entrance leading up, we're taking it! Anyone of the labs in the city is better than nothing. And if we encounter trouble, we'll just simply take care of it._ Edward thought. A growl was suddenly heard in the darkness.

"Admiral, what was that?" one of the SEAL's asked.

"Switch to live rounds. Go to night-vision. SHIT, OPEN FIRE!" Edward yelled as a wolf/lion Chimera suddenly charged them. However, the 7.62 AP/HE/I rounds turned the monster into slabs of meat, painting the stone with blood.

"Keep your eyes peeled, they'll be more of him!" Edward ordered.

"Admiral, what was that thing?" a Cpl. Anderson asked.

"It's a Chimera. Two animals combined into one creature by alchemical means. Looks like this one was a wolf and a lion put together." _Why the hell are Chimera's roaming in the sewers? Did the Bastard forget to flush them out? Or is he using them to guard something?_ Edward wondered as he fired more rounds. More Chimeras began running towards them, but all met grisly, bloody fates.

"Let's move out!"

"Yes, sir!"

After cleaning out the sewers of Chimera's-of which Edward was still certain there were plenty more-they finally found their way out: into the 3rd Laboratory.

_It's been a long time since I've been here._ Edward though. He knew the main passage would take them to Father's Lair, but Edward realized that during the rebuilding process they must've covered the gaping hole that Father had created. So it only made Edward more curious: If they covered that up, why the hell didn't they fill in the tunnels? Okay, rebuilding Central Command would've taken a lot of money, but couldn't they have put _something_ down in the catacombs to prevent any unwanted intruders? Edward brushed these thoughts away as he led the team through the main room. The ash marks from the Mannequin Soldiers were still there, along with the remains of Barry the Chopper.

_That feels so long ago._ Edward quickly thought before focusing on the mission. Retracing his steps as best as he could from the last time he was in the Godforsaken building during the Promised Day, he ordered his team mates to activate their 'Camouflage Cloaks'. All it was, was a prototype, mobile cloaking camouflage system designed to conceal the object it was attached to by creating an invisible bubble field and changing the light around said object to make them invisible. While it was a brilliant idea on paper, in actuality, it was still a highly experimental prototype. Dust would cause it to conk out, not to mention water, hail, sleet, rain, snow, etc. Regular bullets and shrapnel could still punch through it. EMP blasts would deactivate the device, not to mention standard Thermal Scopes could see right through it. However, considering that Amestris had no such thing, Edward was certain the cloaks would do their job well, especially when it came to concealing Navy SEAL's.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: SEAL Team 9_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: King Bradley, Maes Hughes, H.R. Kimmler_

* * *

May 11th, 1917

Central Command Center

Central City, Amestris

Fuhrer Mustang sat down in the large armchair, staring into the roaring fire in the fire pit. His dark eyes reflected the flames. _Funny, fire can give life, but it can also take it. It's funny how much people focus on that last part. I should know all about that. I wonder how much Edward had seen, having to take lives. Before he left, he always said he would never kill anyone. But now, that look in his eyes... He almost reminds me of Kimblee. Why do I get the feeling that he could destroy an entire country and not give a shit about it?_

"Something wrong, Roy?" Riza asked, breaking the Fuhrer's thoughts.

"Just... Just thinking about Edward. I honestly can't make heads or tails of him. One day, he's completely happy to see us. The next, he holds us at gunpoint and threatens to shoot us. Keeps flying his planes over our heads to remind us that we can't exactly hide anything from him, if that is his goal. And earlier today...

"When he asked about Aerugo. It's almost as if he knows that we're lying to him. Despite what he's done to us, we still need to tell him the truth."

"So, we tell him the truth about Aerugo, but we keep the truth away from him about everything else? This is just me, but that's cruel. He needs to know the truth. It might be better for him if it comes from us." Riza said as she slid on the couch next to her husband.

Riza would've been right, if it weren't for the fact that the Fleet Admiral didn't have the best record ever of handling things very well, mentally that is.

"How he'll react is up to him." Riza whispered, leaning in closer. "That's his job." Roy smiled as he laced his fingers in his wife's.

"I'll tell him everything tomorrow. But I don't wanna think about that right now." he whispered as he pressed his lips to Riza's. As the two retreated to their bedroom, they had no idea that invisible soldiers were currently inside the main Command Center. The main library, to be exact.

"Yes, we made it. Okay, start looking. Anything concerning the country of Aerugo, Roy Mustang, and anything concerning alchemy." Edward quickly ordered. Grabbing a book, he flipped it open and began scanning the pages. Although his men and women didn't understand the order, they did as they were told.

"Admiral, some of these pages look like nothing more than names. Female names, to be exact." Cpl. Katie Sartlock noted.

"Noted, corporal. There's a reason for that. That's how the Fuhrer codes special items. Alchemists code their work or important documents so no-one else can use them. Just get it all scanned, I'll take care of it tomorrow." Edward replied. In actuality, Edward had no idea how Mustang coded his research. But considering how Mustang was-or used to be-a womanizing bastard, Edward had a good feeling that Mustang used female names for his codes. _I wonder if Riza knows about that. Could use it for some juicy blackmail._ Edward smirked to himself.

(1 hour later...)

"Okay, that's the last of it. Time to get the fuck outta dodge." Edward sighed as he placed a book back on the shelf, exactly where it was originally found. Activating their cloaks, Edward quickly led his team out of the main library and quietly through the halls of the main building. Once they were outside, they stuck to the shadows and made their way to the large wall guarding the outside. After tranquilizing the guards, they quickly assembled their rappelling gear and climbed up-and-over the wall-into the moat below. The water didn't electrocute the soldiers, but it did short-circuit their cloaks, making the team visible. Fortunately, they were underwater, and had taken their rappelling gear as well. Still, the fact that they were now visible would make their mission a little more difficult. Edward mentally scolded himself.

_HOW THE FUCK COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE DAMN MOAT?! WHY THE HELL DID I JUMP IN THE WATER WHEN I KNEW IT WAS THERE; I'M BETTER THAN THIS! Okay, remain calm. Just stay hidden and keep moving. Get back to the sewers, back to the Fleet. Don't let Bradley send choppers after you, or else I'll have a shooting war on my hands. On second thought..._

Edward quickly checked his weapons. They all still worked. He then looked up and saw the watery vision of the Central Command Center. An evil grin grew on his face.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Main Bridge, Deck 1

Coast of Aerugo

Despite the red glow of the lights in the bridge, not one man or woman had any sense of real urgency in the bridge. Most of the officers had retired for the night, leaving the large room with a feeling of being very empty. One officer, however, stayed at his post, paying close attention to his job.

"Commander Bradley, you need to hear this." Lt. Eitherson said.

"Hear what?" Envy asked as he walked on the bridge, wrapping the upper-part of his flight suit around his waist.

"Back from your shift, Lieutenant Commander?" Hughes asked.

"Yeah, getting kind of bored of flying without having any targets to shoot at. Thought I'd come up here and shoot the breeze with my friends." Envy said, stretching his arms out.

"Well, I believe you're gonna have some targets to shoot at real quick." Eitherson replied.

"Why is that?" Bradley asked. Picking up the headset, he held it to his ears. After a moment,

"GO TO ALERT 1, THE TEAM'S BEEN COMPROMISED! ENVY, LEAD A TEAM OF HARRIERS AND BLACKHAWK'S TO THE CENTRAL COMMAND CENTER AND GET SEAL TEAM 9 OUT!" Bradley suddenly ordered. Envy quickly left the bridge, yelling orders over his COM-headset at his pilots to get their planes ready.

"Commander, you don't think-" Hughes asked.

"I don't know what happened. Whether his memories are back, or they were spotted, or he flat-out lost it in Central, I don't know what happened. But we're getting them all back. And damn the consequences." Bradley said sternly as a klaxon horn sounded throughout the ship, sending all the personnel into battle stations. Within minutes, the bridge was filled with officers and Marines ready to their duty.

"Well, let's think about it. He's too experienced to let himself get noticed or screw up a mission like this. We don't know when his memories will come back or not. Now, we have to remember that he's not all there. Hell, none of us are. In peace time, every man and women in this fleet would be discharged due to mental instability issues." Kimmler put in.

"Dr. Kimmler, please help me. In your past psych evaluation tests, do you truly believe Edward Elric is fit for command?" Bradley asked.

"No. He's not. Like I said, none of us are mentally fit. He should've been discharged years ago, Commander." Kimmler said with an almost accusing tone of voice.

_I know. But he's the best man we have, and he took on the responsibility as Fleet Admiral of the Navy of the United States of America himself. Maybe it's my fault as well. But whatever the consequences of our actions today, we'll just have to accept it and move on._ Bradley thought to himself as he watched Envy's F-21 Thunderbird, 15 Harrier VTOL jets, and 12 Blackhawk choppers fly northward.

* * *

**Hope you guys like the little cliffhanger I put on the end. Don't worry, the War with Drachma will still play a role in the story. But considering what Edward did (or didn't) do here will also play a role in the story concerning his mental state. Please read and review!**

**And also to my readers; if you could put some ideas concerning my next chapter, i.e will Bradley's assault force rescue SEAL TEAM 9, will Edward get caught, will this turn into a full out war Amestris vs. USA Navy, etc, any ideas like that would be helpful. I if I do use any of them, I will give credit to the reader who suggested it. Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Another chappie of Fullmetal's War. Please read and review! Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 7

May 11th, 1917

Strike Team Alpha-5

Airspace over Dublith, Amestris

"Oddball, Racetrack. Stay with your wingman. Amestris doesn't have an air force, but that doesn't give us the right to lose our cool." Comstock barked over the radio.

"_Roger that, Envy._"

As the-_heavily armed_-Strike Team flew towards Central City, John couldn't help but wonder what could've happened that would cause Edward to want sudden backup. _Edward hates having backup being called. He's way too experienced, not to mention this is his home. Regardless of holding his friends hostage at gunpoint, I don't believe he would want to start a war against his own home. Unless, of course, he's started to lose it. PTSD attack? A flashback to World War III? A hallucination? No, he and I got off the hallucinogens years ago. And he hasn't had flashbacks in a while. Could it just be that he's finally lost it? Then again, if that were true, everyone on the ship would've lost it and we would've started bombing Amestris the moment we got here. _Envy thought to himself as he ran another check over his weapons. All the missiles and rockets were ready, and the bombload was enough to devastate any tank formation he'd come across. His 20mm chain gun would destroy anything they touched. As he finished the check-up, his eyes wandered over to a photo he kept taped on the panel. It was a picture of him, his wife Jennifer, and his two daughters, Sarah and Rachel; all of them genuinely happy. Not anymore, though.

_They were only six years old when that was taken. And that was taken only three weeks before... Before..._ John wiped the tears from his eyes and forced himself to control his breathing.

"Lt. Cmdr. Comstock, are you alright? You seem to be breathing rather heavily." Hot-Dog asked, one of the Blackhawk pilots.

"I'm fine. Focus on the mission." The veteran pilot replied. Undoing his mask, John pulled out his flask and downed the last of his contents, making a mental note to refuel his supply of whiskey.

_You're not fine, John. You're not fooling anyone. You're screwed in the head, just like the Admiral. Just like Bradley and Hughes. And every single man and women in CSG-21._ Came that annoying voice from the back of the pilot's head. Sighing, Envy reached down and pulled out a tin box. Flipping it open, he pulled out a syringe and an unmarked bottle that held a clear liquid. Filling the syringe, Envy stuck the needle in his arm and pressed down. His already large muscles grew taunt, and the pilot let out a very contented sigh.

_That's it. Yeah, that's it. God, it's been a while. Yeah, you're my sweet, special, drug, ain't you? They're not steroids, but they sure make a man feel strong. Feel like I could rip this plane to pieces with my own hands._ Envy thought as a very sadistic smile crawled on his face. Gently pressing the throttle forward, Envy could think of only one thing as his fighter jet increased in speed, hurtling through the night sky towards Central.

_Blood will be spilled tonight._

* * *

May 11th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

"Only Admiral Elric, the Iron Eagle of America, would turn a routine Recon Op into a full-blown shoot-out." Cpl. Paul Marksin muttered as he and the rest of the SEAL's hid in the dark alleyway. Well, almost all of them. Said Admiral was in the street, randomly firing at will. He was able to reactivate his cloak, so the Amestrians couldn't see him. And the muzzle flash-suppressor on the end of his rifle made Edward nearly impossible to spot. The SEAL's could only wonder what Edward was doing.

He fired off one round to his right, then wait, and then fire off a few to his left. Wait again, then a few more to his right. The Amestrians continued their firing, and Edward quickly backed into the alleyway. The gunfire continued.

"Well, got the dumbasses to shoot at each other. Time to go home." Edward smirked as his cloak shut down. Edward was right. Somehow, the Amestrian soldiers were firing on each other. During which, the SEAL Team quietly sneaked away. Or, at least they tried. Two trucks filled with Amestrian soldiers roared in front of them. Immediately, the American soldiers responded with red-hot 7.62 HEAP/I rounds that tore the trucks and their occupants to shreds. The advanced silencers may have quieted the sounds of the guns, but nothing could quiet the sounds of the Central City soldiers screaming as they were blown to pieces. Houselights were turning on around them.

"We need to get out of here, and fast." Edward whispered. Quickly running down the main street, he turned to his left and saw a large building. It looked like an apartment building with a large garage next to the front door.

_Tall enough building. If we can get to the top, we can hold out here until the Blackhawk's get here. Wish we brought our gloves. Well, there's always Plan B._ Edward thought as he switched his ammo to his tranquilizers.

"Switch to Tranq's and night-vision. Everyone in the building is a hostile." Edward ordered as he kicked the door down. Actually, it was more like his kick sent the door off the hinges and into the building. An imprint of his boot remained in the rich wood. The team quickly moved in, shooting tranquilizer bullets into every person that resided in the building. Somehow, the highly-trained soldiers had forgotten they had brought rappelling gear. Instead of busting into someone's home and shooting tranquilizers at them, they could've easily climbed to the top. Of course, with their cloaks offline and the Amestrian Military being mobilized, they could either shoot their way out and risk running out of ammunition, or sneak into an unsuspecting building and hole up. They chose the latter. _Good thing we got the T-1A TB's. _Edward thought.

The beauty of the T-1A Tranquilizer Bullets was that while they were shaped like regular bullets, once they penetrated the person, two chemical agents were immediately dispersed. One was a very fast-acting agent, injected directly into the bloodstream that knocked the person out almost immediately. The second agent sealed up the wound almost instantly, removing any trace that the victim had been shot. These beauties had proven their worth time after time again, and Admiral Elric had absolutely no problem using them in any situation. Of course, he still preferred the HEAP/I rounds, but he only used those when he needed to.

After every man and women in the building was knocked out, the team quickly made their way to the rooftop. The sounds of gunshots and men shouting orders echoed throughout the city. Edward mentally prepared himself to shoot his way out of Central City.

"Wait, do you hear that?" Pvt. Frank Mendoza asked as he slipped another 250-round drum magazine in his SAW.

The _whap-whap-whap_ sound of Blackhawk choppers soon filled the air. The angry screech of Harrier VTOL jets roared into the skies, along with the only Thunderbird jet fighter serving in CSG-21. To top it all off, _Lift Me Up_ by _Five Finger Death Punch_ echoed throughout the city. All courtesy of Uncle Sam. The SEAL Team had shit-eating, goofy grins on their face.

"God Bless America. Time to go home, ladies and gents." Edward smirked.

* * *

May 11th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Main Conference Room

Coast of Aerugo

"Fleet Admiral of the Navy, Edward Elric. The Iron Eagle of America. The Patton of the sea's. The Rommel of the oceans. The sea-borne Stonewall Jackson. Admiral William Halsey Reincarnated. The living Chester W. Nimitz. Douglas MacArthur reborn." Commander Bradley ran through the nicknames as he stared at his superior officer. The aforementioned man sat at the end of the table in the main conference room, a cocky grin on his face, but something bloodthirsty in his eyes that put Commander Bradley, a battle-hardened veteran, on edge.

"Admiral, do you realize what your stunt out there just put us in? The situation we're gonna be in now?"

"Humor me." was the blonde's response. Bradley sighed.

"Because you had to shoot up the city, and I had to send in Blackhawks and VTOL jets, which aren't the quietest machines in the world, Mustang is gonna be pointing fingers at us when he realizes what happened tonight. Speaking of which, did you even accomplish your mission?"

"Sure did." Edward replied, tossing a data-pad on the table. "That contains everything we need to know about Aerugo, the War against Drachma, everything that we could use to better our situation." Bradley picked up the pad and scrolled through it. After a few minutes, Bradley looked at Edward.

"Edward, I'm your friend. We've been through a lot of hell together. I've helped you keep your head pointed the right way, and you've helped me plenty of times as well. You are the most amazing tactician I've met, and there is no one else better qualified to hold your rank than you."

"Except you, King. You're more than qualified to lead the United States Military. That's why I made you my XO." Edward said honestly. Bradley let a small smile grace his face.

"I appreciate that, Edward. I really do. But... I need to ask: Are you planning a war against Amestris?"

"And what would you do; what would your reaction be if I told you that I was planning one?" Edward responded very coolly, the sadistic, war-mongering fire in his gold eyes growing brighter and brighter.

_He's getting worse. I'm sorry Mustang. But to be honest, I've always wanted to see how an Alchemist would fare against a United States Marine._ Bradley thought.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Edward Elric, King Bradley, John 'Envy' Comstock_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell_

* * *

May 12th, 1917

Rockbell &amp; Garfiel Automail Shop

Central City, Amestris

Alphonse slowly woke up with a pounding headache. _What happened last night? What's with the damn headache? _Al muttered. Suddenly, the events of last night came back to him. "Winry." He gasped. Quickly getting to his feet, he quickly ran downstairs-and saw the building's inhabitants along with several Amestrian blue-shirts along with Mustang and his team.

"Fuhrer Mustang, what's going on?" Alphonse asked, breathing deeply.

"That's what we all want to know. Did you hear all those helicopters and fighter jets last night? And all the shooting?" Mustang asked.

"No. All I remember last night was some soldiers bursting in, all dressed in dark black clothes. They shot us with... I was shot!" Al cried out. He quickly ripped open his PJ's-to see nothing but a muscular torso with no gunshot wounds. Or any wounds.

"I... I... That... that can't be possible. I felt bullets enter my body." Al said slowly, sinking into the couch.

"Same story from everyone else, Alphonse. When I first heard the shooting last night, I thought it was Drachman terrorists. But when the helicopters and the jets roared overhead..." Mustang sighed.

"You don't... you don't think Edward had anything to do with this, do you?" Winry asked, holding her mug of coffee tighter.

"He's the only one with flying machines like the one's we've been seeing. And we've seen several trucks lying across the streets of the city. Or what's left of them. They've all been heavily shot up, and the soldiers inside were blasted to pieces. Amestris, nor any country surrounding us, has any weapons capable of doing that." Riza said very clearly. Despite the recent events of the previous night, she still maintained that calm that she was very well known for.

"We're not blaming him, Al. But I am keeping him as a suspect until we get more information." Mustang said, noticing the look in Al's eyes.

"Are you saying we should prepare a war against Brother?" Al asked.

"I'd rather not. If Edward was responsible for last night's events, then he just showed us just how unprepared we are to fight against him. If he can do this much damage just by sneaking in, imagine what he can do if he were to come at us with full force."

"No. Just because he held us all at gunpoint, doesn't mean he's going to start a war with us. He said he was sorry, and that he wants to make things better. He even said he was going to rebuild Ishval. I still trust him, Fuhrer, and I still believe in him." Al said sternly.

"I hope you're right, Al. I really hope you're right."

* * *

**I know it was short. But I wanted to leave it off here. Next few chapters will deal with the rebuilding of Ishval and the distrust between Admiral Elric and his former Amestrian comrades. Read and review, please!**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Credit goes to where credit is due. Warning: this contains yoai, (EdxEnvy) scenes of torture and rape. You have been warned.**

**Italics represent thoughts or memories happening in the past.**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 8

August 7th, 1917

Sierra District, Ishval

Sector 12

The sounds of bulldozers, backhoes, cranes, and _Metallica_'s _Fade to Black_ mingled with the sounds of men shouting, helicopters flying through the air, and various other heavy metal songs in the air. The smells of motor oil, gasoline, aircraft fuel mingled with raw sweat. Red-eyed, tan-skinned Ishvalans mingled with the various colors of half-naked American super-soldiers, all working on one goal: the reconstruction of Ishval. Well, there was one American that wasn't working. Instead, he was catching up on some well-deserved zzzzz's.

The Iron Eagle of America was resting behind a large clay house, lying down in the hot sand. He had endured much worse than that, though. Wearing only his boots, desert camouflage pants, finger-less gloves and a holster with a loaded Desert Eagle, Edward lay down on the dirt, letting the hot sun bake his war-torn body. While his body was at peace, his mind was anything but, his mind having made the unfortunate decision to wander back to a time long past, a very bloody past...

* * *

_April 4__th__, 2055_

_Las Vegas, Nevada_

_United States of America_

_[Fleet Admiral's Log, April 4__th__ of the year 2055. The war against the Russians and the Chinese has come to a fucking standstill. Neither side can gain the upper edge. I can't do shit with my ships, even with the new modifications to my capital vessels, and the bad guys can't do squat with their EMP weaponry. Of course, a few simple hacks was all it took to bring it all offline, but even without them, baddies are still making hell on the Eastern European front and in the Pacific. Bio-Chemical WMD's aren't doing anything when everyone has a fucking gas-mask, and super-soldiers are impervious against those weapons. And I'm still not gonna use nukes unless I. ABSOLUTLY. HAVE. TO. But, I digress._

_At the moment, Bradley, Hughes and I are working on another case: getting this cocksucker Marconi to squeal. You see, the Marconi crime family was working with another large family that we hadn't identified yet. The two had been selling weapons to supposed Russian and Chinese sleeper-agents here in the States. Tracking the weapons, however, was easy. Unfortunately, due to the damn Mafia families having such tight lips, no-one was willing to talk._

_So it's just my lucky day. A SEAL Team raid brought in Johnny R. Marconi, one of the top heads of the Marconi fam. Five days, Hughes, Bradley and I beat the living hell outta this guy. I held back, of course. Squealers work better when they're alive. But this guy was tough. We whipped him, punched him, cut him, pulled out teeth, fingernails, toenails, we cut off his left ear, gouged out his right eyeball, stuck a battery charger to his nipples; everything we could think of. We even went so far as to use a steak knife to saw his left testicle in half, and we also shoved a red-hot fire poker up his rectum and into his urethra. THE FUCKER STILL WOULDN'T TALK! Since Kimmler is using all the truth serum back on the ship, I had to resort to other means to get him to talk! Just short of locking him in a gas chamber and letting loose the NOVA-6A gas weapon I've been developing, my buddies and I took a trip down to Las Vegas, the Sin City, where we hid down in the industrial park and stuck this bastard's head in a vice.]_

'_Hey, Johnny, listen up. We got your head in a vice. If you don't cough up who's selling the guns, we're gonna squeeze it like a watermelon. What's it gonna be?' Hughes asked, staring down at the beaten man._

'_Fuck you.' He replied._

'_FUCK ME? I SUPPOSE YOU WANNA FUCK MY MOM TOO! MAYBE MY ASSHOLE DAD, OR EVEN MY BROTHER!' Edward went on a rant as he angrily closed the vice, causing John's head to compress. After a second,_

'_Wait! I'll give you the name! It's Tringham! Russell Tringham!'_

'_RUSSELL TRINGHAM?! YOU MAKE ME POP YOUR EYEBALL FOR THAT COCKSUCKER?! THAT BASTARD WHO'S TRYING TO IMPERSONATE ME WHEN HE DOESN'T HAVE TWO PROSTHETIC LIMBS?! AND HE'S NOT EVEN IN THE FUCKING MILITARY?! THAT RUSSELL TRINGHAM?!' Edward screamed as he began to rip out Johnny's inner organs in anger. The smell of fresh blood hung in the air, not to mention the janitors were gonna have a field day in the morning. Once the steel walls were finished being re-decorated with human blood and anatomy, Bradley pulled out his watch._

'_25 seconds. Getting sloppy, Admiral?' he asked with a sly smile._

'_Nah, just enjoying myself. Contact Kimmler, see what he knows about Russell Tringham. I don't know anything about him.'_

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Edward Elric, King Bradley, Maes Hughes_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: John 'Envy' Comstock, H.R. Kimmler_

* * *

_April 6__th__, 2055_

_CFX-150 USS America_

_Carrier Strike Group-21, Task Force Charlie-Alpha from the 2__nd__ Attack Fleet_

_Pearl Harbor, Hawaii_

_Ten-Forward, Deck 4_

_[Anchored at Pearl Harbor for refueling and re-armament to assist Admiral Riley Barthok's 4__th__ Fleet in the Pacific Ocean, south of the Solomon Islands, all U.S. and Allied military assets under the command of Fleet Admiral Edward Elric]_

'_So, do we have anything?' Edward asked, staring out the massive Naval base that was one of the many military assets under his authority. The sun was barely seen over the horizon as the evening stars began to pop into existence._

'_Russell Tringham, son of Nash Tringham of the Tringham crime family. Next in line to run that mob, has a wife and three kids. Two sons, one daughter. Also has a kid brother as well. Made a name for himself for selling weapons to supposed sleeper-agents in the States, also has been trying to impersonate you in an attempt to bring the military into disarray. All at the age of 21.' Kimmler said as he dropped a folder on the table. Edward picked it up and began to comb over it._

'_The real juicy information is on page 104. Remember what happened to John's wife and two daughters?'_

_Edward flipped to the aforementioned page and read. His golden eyes went wide._

'_Does John know?'_

'_Not yet. I was thinking you should tell him, considering you're his CO.' Kimmler yawned loudly._

'_Okay. We're not scheduled to head out for another month. This'll be finished long before then. Find the bastard and bring him to me. I'll talk to Envy.'_

* * *

_April 6__th__, 2055_

_CFX-150 USS America_

_Carrier Strike Group-21, Task Force Charlie-Alpha from the 2__nd__ Attack Fleet_

_Pearl Harbor, Hawaii_

_Fleet C.A.G. quarters, deck 2_

_Edward opened up the door leading into his C.A.G's room. Like all other military rooms, it held only the bare necessities. However, if you served on the USS America, Edward always made sure his soldiers and officers got the best. So it was more luxurious then most officers' quarters on other warships. Edward looked around a bit, taking notice of the various model aircraft, the assault rifles and sniper rifles mounted on the walls, the weight-lifting equipment on the far side of the room, the many electric guitars and saxophones all over the room. Edward could hear the shower going on. Deciding to wait, Edward picked up one of the guitars, a black-and-white Schecter Synyster Gates Custom guitar, plugged it in, and began to play Enter Sandman by Metallica._

_By the time he had flawlessly played to the last verse-skipping the solo-he was so ingrained in what he was doing that he didn't notice his top pilot leaning against the door frame, towel over his shoulder._

'_So the Iron Eagle of America plays guitar also, huh?' he asked with a smirk._

'_I prefer ESP, but Schecter is a good brand also.' Edward replied, putting the guitar back on the stand._

'_So, what made you come down here? Come to reprimand me for my attempted kamikaze against those submarines? Again? Or the fact that I slammed my Thunderbird against the deck with only fumes in the tanks?' the pilot said sarcastically._

'_Sit down.' Edward ordered. The pilot dropped the towel and threw his naked body on the bed. Edward took a moment to observe him. Pale skin, a very muscular body, a few scars that littered his arms and torso, a tattoo on his left arm of the 501__st__ Airborne Tactical Squadron and another tattoo of the U.S. Navy emblem on his right arm._

'_John, I know this war has gotten to you. It's gotten to all of us. You're the very best pilot that I know of. Flying the Thunderbird off a carrier is no easy task, even I can't do that.'_

'_I can do that because you modified the deck to hold a launcher for my plane.' Envy smirked. Edward sighed and turned around, looking out the window._

'_I know it's hard on you, having lost your wife and two daughters. She was a very beautiful women, and your daughters were wonderful. But you can't keep blaming yourself for what happened.'_

_Envy said nothing, but moved over to the edge of the bed, sitting down._

'_That's not helping, Ed. I just... I just have this feeling that I'm never gonna have any peace in this life. I thought I had that when I married Jen, but now...'_

_Edward knew that John had a rough life. Coming from a home from a very abusive family, rumors abounded that he had actually killed his family before he joined the Navy. Whether it was murder or self-defense, Edward didn't know, nor did he care. To be honest, he didn't care about the background of his crew. All he wanted from them was their respect and willingness to obey his orders. ALL of them._

'_I got something for you, John. Something that might help you.'_

'_What do you got?' Edward grabbed the folder Kimmler had given him earlier and gave it to the pilot, with instructions to read page 104. Once that was done,_

'_Edward, I'm asking this as a friend: You find this bastard, and you bring him to me. Understand?' the anger was very evident in his voice. It would've scared anyone else, but not the Iron Eagle of America._

'_We're currently bringing in the entire Tringham family, along with their associates. I got a bit of a stake in this as well, but nothing like yours. Once we get him, I'll let him have all the time you want with that bastard.' Edward promised. Kneeling on the bed behind Envy, Ed put his hands on Envy's shoulders and began to massage his stiff neck and upper back. Almost immediately, Envy leaned his head back and moaned._

'_You really need to see a physical therapist, John. Your neck is so damn tight, it's a wonder how you're able to fly. Go see one, will ya?'_

'_Sure, I will.' Envy muttered, lost in the physical bliss he was receiving._

'_I'm serious, Lieutenant Commander. Or else I'm grounding you. Understand?'_

'_I do.' Envy muttered as he craned his head forward, brushing his lips against his CO's neck._

'_Come on, Envy, not now. I got a fleet to run.' Edward muttered._

'_Bradley is more than capable of running the military. We're not scheduled to leave for another month. Plenty of time to find Tringham. In the meantime, though….' Envy breathed as he turned around, pushing Edward down on the bed._

_Aw hell, screw the rules. I'm the goddamn Fleet Admiral, I can do whatever the hell I want. And if that means sleeping with a past lover, even if he is my best pilot, then who's gonna stop me?__ Edward thought to himself as he and Envy began removing the Admiral's clothes. Within seconds, the two were naked and horny. Edward knew why John was doing this, though. Other than the two were bisexual lovers in the past, John was doing this because he needed some re-assurance that Edward was there for him._

'_I needed this.' Envy sighed as Edward flipped them over so the Admiral was on top, his lips latched to the pilot's neck, his hips grinding against the man below. Envy wrapped his strong arms around Edward's war-torn back, holding his superior officer very tightly. The room soon filled with the moans of two high-ranked Navy officers, one the Fleet Admiral, the other the Fleet C.A.G. During their love making, Edward propped himself on his elbows, staring into the purple eyes of his C.A.G._

'_You wanna...' the blonde gasped._

'_No. You?'_

'_No.'_

_The two simply resumed grinding their manhoods against each other, their sweat providing minor lubrication. After a while of getting tangled in the bedsheets, they finally erupted, spraying their stomachs, groins, and upper thighs with each other's cum. The two collapsed on the bed side by side, staring into each other's eyes._

'_Damn. I just get outta the shower and you do this to me.' Envy smirked._

'_Not my fault you wanted to get some.' Edward smiled. Envy had a small smile, but it disappeared and anger appeared in his purple eyes. He slowly brought his hand up Edward's side and rested on his neck, squeezing with enough strength that would crush even a Marine's augmented neck. But with Edward's augments, not even Envy could beat him, and Envy was the strongest and fastest American onboard the ship, except the Admiral._

'_Admiral, you make me a promise right now.' the pilot growled._

'_What?'_

'_When we find Tringham, I'll do whatever I want to him, and I get no interruptions. Not from Kimmler. Not from Bradley or Hughes. Especially not from you.'_

'_Do whatever you want to him. You deserve it.' Edward sighed._

* * *

_April 8__th__, 2055_

_Death Valley, South-East California_

_United States of America_

_A large caravan of military vehicles roared through the desert, the frigid temperatures of the dark night colliding with the heat from the motors. A few Humvee's, a military fire-truck, several cement trucks and dump trucks carrying 'special cargo', and a large crane. The backhoes had left the pre-set destination long ago. In the lead Humvee sat Fleet Admiral Edward Elric, Commander King Bradley, Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes, Lieutenant Commander John 'Envy' Comstock and Lieutenant H.R. Kimmler. The mood in the vehicle was one of revenge and bloodlust as Envy sharpened his many knives._

'_After we finish Tringham, we're heading back to Pearl Harbor, no exceptions. Whatever you want to do to him, tonight is your only opportunity. Understand?" Edward asked._

'_Yes sir. What I don't understand, is why you three are here?' the pilot asked._

'_The Navy's a family, John. Anyone messes with even one member, you mess with everyone. Get it?' Hughes asked from the driver's seat._

'_This is it.' Bradley called from the turret. The convoy stopped at a massive hole that had been dug into the ground._

'_I want the crane set up over the hole. Get the cement mixers and dump trucks ready to drop off their cargo. Bring out the cocksuckers.' Edward ordered. Two Green Beret's walked up, a tall blonde man with a black eye in their hands._

'_Russell Tringham. Know who I am?' John growled, getting close into the man's face. Although Envy was shorter, he was by far the superior fighter._

'_How should I know?' he replied almost arrogantly, despite his current situation._

'_Does the name Jennifer Comstock ring a bell? How about Sarah Comstock? Rachel Comstock?! Are those names familiar to you?!'_

'_Nope.' Russell smirked. Envy grabbed Russell and threw him against the Humvee. The sound of bone breaking was heard. Two broken ribs. Envy growled as he slipped on a pair of brass knuckles._

'_Let me refresh your memory. August 25__th__, two years ago. New York City, Time Square. Two black SUV's pull up to a Ford Mustang, and kill three females in the car, then they proceeded to have it all arranged that a drunk driver had slammed into them. Remember all that?! Or do I need to jog your fucking memory?!' John screamed as he slammed iron fist after iron fist into Russell's head._

'_Sorry, doesn't ring a bell.' Tringham laughed._

'_Figured you'd say that.' Envy smirked. Snapping his fingers, more people were brought out from the other Humvee's. Russell's family and kid brother, Fletcher._

'_Russell, what's going on?' Fletcher asked._

'_Kid, your older brother had my friends family killed in an attempt to get to us.' Kimmler said coldly._

'_What? No, that's a lie! Russell, what's going on?' the woman cried, obviously the wife._

'_Gag 'em. Tie 'em up to the crane.' Edward ordered. Despite the frantic protesting, screaming and crying, Russell Tringham's family was gagged and almost brutally tied up to the large crane cable. They were then dangled over the large hole in the earth. Russell's eyes went wide._

'_NO, PLEASE, LET 'EM GO!' he yelled._

'_LIKE YOU LET MY FAMILY GO?!' Envy screamed. He proceeded to slam Russell onto the hood of the Humvee over and over again like he was a rag doll. Once he was sufficiently dazed and bleeding, Envy proceeded to have him tied down to the front. Ripping his clothes off, he then went to the back of the vehicle and came back with several large black duffel bags. Unzipping them he pulled out a various assortment of power tools and other items you would normally find in a vehicle repair shop. John pressed a syringe on the man's neck and depressed the plunger, sending a clear liquid into his bloodstream._

_Envy then pulled out 4-inch grinder with a diamond blade, he turned it on and then ran the tool down Russell's left rib cage, sending blood and bone marrow everywhere while his screams permeated the desert. He also did the same treatment on his right rib-cage, and then used it to cut open his chest and stomach. with the gaping hole, Envy reached inside and roughly pulled out his inner organs. While Russell bled out, Envy pulled out a blow-torch and used that to cauterize the wounds._

'_Trust me, you're pain has only begun.' Envy snarled as he pulled out a pair of vice-grips and began to rip out every fingernail and toenail, leaving Russel's fingers bleeding. Using the grinder, he proceeded to saw off every extremity, including his genitals. But not to worry, though. Envy used the blow-torch to make sure Russell would not bleed to death. He dropped the blow-torch and proceeded to slam fist after fist into Russel's body._

_After what seemed like an eternity, of Russell receiving bruises and broken bones from a pissed-off Navy pilot, Envy decided to do something new. Turning his captive around, he lowered his pants while rubbing Russell's bare ass. Breathing in deeply, Envy grinned as he slammed into Russell, taking delight into hearing the squeal that erupted from the blonde's lips. Again and again, Envy slammed his massive erection into Russel's asshole, tearing the man up on the inside, both physically and mentally. To add to the torture, he produced two combat daggers and slammed them into Russell's hands. He then did the same to his shoulder blades._

_After John released, he pulled his pants back up. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a fire poker and burned the tip until it was glowing hot. Without a moment's hesitation, he slammed the metal pole up Russell's rectum, twisting it mercilessly as he did so. By this point, Russell was a sobbing wreck, as well as his family who were forced to watch the horrid ordeal before their eyes._

'_Light 'em up.' John growled. Edward nodded at the Spec Ops. Grabbing the hose from the fire-truck, the lead operator released the handle-and sprayed kerosene all over Russell's family, dangling in the air._

'_What are you doing? Please, please, let them go!' Russell sobbed as Hughes, Bradley and Elric lite up their cigarettes._

'_Too late.' Bradley growled as the three officers tossed their cancer sticks onto the crane-arm. The sparks set the kerosene on fire, engulfing the Tringham family. Russell watched in horror as his family began to burn alive._

'_NO! NO! PLEASE, NO!' he screamed in horror. The cable was released, and the burning hostages fell into the deep pit below. As they burned, Envy pulled out a sledgehammer and slammed it into Russell's ribs and knees, crippling him forever. Undoing the straps, Comstock dragged Russell by his hair and tossed him into the pit with his burning family members, their horrid screams echoing in the night sky._

'_THAT WAS FOR MY WIFE AND TWO DAUGHTERS, YOU COCK-SUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!' Envy screamed with all the rage he had._

'_YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS! MY FAMILY WILL HUNT YOU DOWN, YOU'RE AS GOOD AS DEAD!' Russell sobbed._

'_We already have.' Kimmler smirked, signaling the dump trucks and cement mixers to deliver their cargo: the body parts of every member of the Tringham crime family. Severed heads and body parts fell into the whole with a mixture cement. Russell's screams were gargled out in his horror-filled grave. Within seconds, the concrete had been smoothed out. The Tringham Mob Family was no more._

* * *

August 7th, 1917

Sierra District, Ishval

Sector 12

Edward Elric slowly woke up, rubbing his head.

"Are you alright, sir? Looked like you were having a pretty vivid dream, sir." A Marine asked.

"No, more like a very vivid memory." Edward replied with a very evil grin on his face.

He got to his feet and walked down the street where he saw his younger brother, quickly changing the evil grin to a cocky smirk.

"Hey Al, what are you doing out here?" he half-asked, half-yelled.

"Heard you guys needed some help, so I thought I'd came out and see what I could do." The younger Elric replied. Edward smiled as he popped another cigarette in his mouth.

"Glad to see you haven't changed. Wish I could say the same for me." Edward said with a bit of a crazed look in his eyes. Alphonse wished he didn't notice it, but he did.

"Doesn't matter, you're still my brother. That's not gonna change anything." Alphonse replied.

"Come on, let's get in the shade, I need some water." Edward led the two inside a large tent where other Marines and American's caught some valued rest. Once the Fleet Admiral walked in,

"Officer on-"

"At ease, get some rest." Edward ordered as he opened a large cooler, tossing an ice-cold water bottle to Al.

"So, when you walk into a room, why do your soldiers always stand and salute?"

"Sign of respect. I honestly hate it. So, how have you been doing? Ever since..." Edward let on, not wanting to state what happened all those months ago.

"Oh, that... I may not completely agree with your methods, but I think I do understand why you did it. I mean, you've been on the other side for 15 years. You probably got close with those two, especially because you're their commanding officer."

"Yeah, I am close to them. They're good friends, and good men. I trust them, and they trust me. That's how we do it. Was there another way? Maybe. But, I just didn't want a blood-bath on my hands. If Mustang and his crew tried attacking Commander Bradley or Envy, I would've defended my two subordinates."

Al said nothing at that. What could he say? He wasn't a soldier, he had no idea what being a commanding officer was like, especially one of Edward's rank and his responsibility.

"But enough about that. How have you been holding up here in Amestris?" Edward asked.

_Aside from getting shot by black soldiers that may or may not be from your ship?_ Al darkly thought to himself as he smiled and recounted most of everything that he had been doing in Amestris since Edward came back. Most of it was working on the Transmutation Circle that brought Edward here. He still couldn't figure it out.

"I've tried Xingese Alkahestry, ancient Xerxes Alchemy, everything. I don't know how to figure it out."

"Who's been working on it? Besides you and the old man?" Edward asked, blowing out smoke from his nostrils.

"Me, dad, Mae, and Teacher. We even brought in a few other alchemists from Central University, and they couldn't make heads or tails of it. We'll keep working at it, Brother." Al said with a smile.

_There is no fucking possible way it should take this long to figure out that Transmutation Circle. My brother, Mae, our old Teacher, and Dad, all very skilled alchemists in their own right, and they can't figure it out? I wonder..._

"So, you and Mae are working on this together, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Al muttered, bring the bottle to his lips.

"Stop fucking her on the table and focus on your job."

"What?!" Al coughed. Edward laughed.

"Your hickey. Might wanna cover that up; even the worst sniper in the world could see that from a mile away."

"No, it... it's nothing like that, not at all." Al said, his cheeks starting to grow warm.

"What, you two haven't sealed the deal yet?" Edward smirked. Alphonse took a deep breath and sighed.

"No... I just didn't reciprocate her feelings that she had for me. I mean, we're still good friends, but that's all we are."

"Hmm. So who's the new girl?" Edward asked.

"Well, she's asked me to keep it a secret." Al smirked.

"Hmm. Well, before I came here, you probably should've taken her to the beaches of Aerugo. Probably would've made for a romantic evening. Speaking of which, do you know what happened to that country?"

* * *

August 9th, 1917

Fuhrer's Residence, Central City

Amestris

"He actually asked about Aerugo?" Roy asked, absently minding the fire crackling in the fireplace.

"Yes. I don't think he knows what happened, but he's probably thinking that we know." Al sighed.

"And you're sure you erased all the evidence in Ishval?"

"Yes. Both Scar and I. Sir, I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. We still have Drachma to worry about. And I really don't think Brother is willing to help us out. Told me himself earlier today that he wasn't willing to risk the lives of his men and women for a war that he had no part of. Said he would only fight if they were a direct threat to him." Al sighed as he leaned back into the large couch.

"Does he have any idea about you and Winry? If he were to find that out, that could really upset him."

"Well, he did notice my hickey. Thought it came from Mae." Al chuckled lightly at that.

"Did you notice _anything_ different about Edward?"

"He's different. I can tell that for sure. Physically, he looks the same. But his eyes... I'll be honest, I don't feel safe around him."

"None of us do, Al." Roy sighed. _Edward, what the hell happened to you? Why are you like this? Your own brother doesn't feel safe around you. Do you even realize that?_

* * *

August 9th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

Coast of Aerugo

_One of the things I need to do tomorrow is to see if Dad can alchemically create a harbor for me. Help with unloading all my supplies._ Edward sighed as he drafted up the plans for said harbor. He also pulled up a map of Amestris and began to pin-point targets that would be of interest to him. Bradley, Hughes, Envy and Kimmler then walked in.

"You wanted to see us, Admiral?" Kimmler asked.

"I just wanted to talk to some friends." Edward sighed, pulling out several glasses and bottles of whiskey. Everyone got comfortable and loose, the alcohol working through their systems.

"So, what's up?" Hughes asked.

"Well, I fucked up big time. Not even my own brother trusts me. I saw him earlier today in Ishval and we chatted for a little bit. Claims he's having trouble figuring out that circle that took us here. And then I think he lied to me concerning Aerugo."

"What did he say?" Envy asked.

"Claims that he has no idea what happened to Aerugo, that this is the first that he's heard of it." Edward spat out.

"Why was he in Ishval?" Bradley asked.

"Said he heard we needed some help and he came to help out. Now, that's like Al. Always willing to help others. But, the problem is, I never told anyone that I needed any help. So I think he was there to spy on me. Maybe Mustang sent him there."

"Okay, you're getting out of hand there. He's your brother. Your kin blood, for fuck's sake. He probably went to Ishval because he wanted to see his older brother and spend time with him, not to spy on him."

"Maybe you're right. I hope you're right, Maes. Guy just had to ask if I would help with Drachma, though. But unless the Drachman's actually fire on us, no way am I gonna send troops up North. General Armstrong can take care of them. That reminds me, Envy. Tomorrow, fly back up North and grab more pictures of the border, including Ft. Briggs. See how it looks up there."

"I can do that." Envy muttered as he pulled out a deck of cards. As the night went on-and Envy won game after game after game-Edward could only wonder about Al. _What's making him act so different? He knows something, but what could it be? Just what the hell is everyone hiding from me?_

* * *

**Looks like Edward and even his own brother don't trust each other any more. Next chapter will be up next week. Read and review, please!**


	10. Chapter 9

**The next chappie of my story. I own nothing, as usual. I've had a bit of writer's block as of late, and I just can't add on anymore to this chapter. So I've decided to post what I got. Enjoy!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 9

August 10th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Lieutenant Commander John 'Envy' Comstock ran his purple eyes over the checklist on his massive F-21 Thunderbird as the technicians disconnected the fuel hoses from the wings.

_25 EI-3 Sidewinders, 20 HE-1 heat seeking missiles, 7 KI-1 'bunker-buster' bombs, 2 of those so-called prototype laser cannons, 2 'mini' railguns in the upper racks, 7 AP rocket pods, chafes, flares, I don't know why the fuck I had those damn colored smoke canisters put on, those are only for air shows. Let's see, the 20mm gun is fully loaded, and 7 canisters of Fly-Drones. Each canister holding 700 of the little fuckers. Thanks to everyone's favorite lieutenant, Randall Higgins, the 'Kill-Camera Man', I can dump these little fuckers anywhere and no-one knows they're there. These Amestrians will have no idea that Ed's spying on them. Don't know if it's wrong or not, but hey, if he wants to start a war with his homeland, then that's his decision._ Envy smirked as he gave the data-pad to the engineer and climbed the ladder into his cockpit.

Flicking on various switches, he put his helmet on and breathed deeply, feeling the various vibrations as the elevator brought the fighter aircraft up to the main deck while the bird's large engines began to roar to life.

The F/A-21 Thunderbird was one of the most advanced planes created by the United States Military. It was designed to be a multirole stealth plane, with two large 'hypersonic' engines that could mask its approach and carry a very large payload to destroy anything it touched. However, because of its massive size, it was relegated to the Air Force. John Comstock, however, preferred to fly it over the smaller, lighter, more maneuverable (and in his case, under armed), F-85 Mustang II interceptor. Edward had to pull several strings to allow a USAF airplane to be used on an Aircraft Carrier, despite his rank and the ship was the Flagship of the United States Navy. John, however, had plenty of help in that particular department as well.

He had numerous contacts within major aircraft construction companies. Getting a regular F-21 Thunderbird straight out of stock wouldn't do for him; he had done his homework and had his plane 'specially built to suit his needs. Additional weapon racks, highly-advanced stealth technology, a prototype camouflage that changed the color of the plane to the same color of the current physical surroundings, VTOL capabilities, he even had small rocket-boosters installed around his plane to give it extra speed and to make it more maneuverable, and despite that it still flew like a brick compared to the Mustang II. Nevertheless, John's personalized Thunderbird was the most advanced plane in the entire US Military.

He shoved all that in the back of his head as he maneuvered the massive bird onto the center catapult, which was specifically built just for the Thunderbird. If a Mustang II were to use it, the force would tear the smaller plane in half.

"_Sierra-Alpha-Whiskey, this is Tango-Charlie 2. Status, over._"

"Tango-Charlie 2, this is Sierra-Alpha-Whiskey. My girl is soaking wet and begging for release, over."

"_Roger that. Make her cum, and make her scream loud. Your sky, Fleet CAG._"

"Copy that, my sky. Out." Envy gave the thumbs up, signaling the deck officer that he was ready. The catapult launched, and sent the massive plane off the deck while Envy opened the throttle wide open, sending the warplane screaming through the sky. Easing off the throttle, Envy removed his mask and yawned loudly.

"I need to take better care of myself. Can't be drinking my ass off every evening just by playing cards with old friends." Envy sighed to himself. Taking the bird low to the ground, the veteran pilot put the plane to auto-pilot and leaned back, letting his eyes drift shut.

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Listening Outpost 1A

DMZ, Amestris-Aerugo Border

"Fuhrer Mustang, this is Listening Outpost 1A. We've spotted a large, delta-shaped flying machine of some sort soar over our heads. The same one we've seen occasionally. It's moving rather slower than we've seen in the past, and it was loaded with what appeared to be rockets and large tubes of some sort."

"Thanks for reporting that. Any other change?" came Mustang's voice.

"None, sir."

* * *

August 10th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Bridge, Deck 1

"_Thanks for reporting that. Any other change?_"

"_None, sir._" The voices oozed through speakers.

"So Fuhrer Mustang has a listening outpost at the border, and he's spying on us. He has no idea what spying really is." Edward smirked as he gulped down another mug of coffee.

"He's trying to do what he can with the technology he has at his disposal. Can't blame him." Bradley sighed, nursing a bad hangover.

"Hey Ed, next time we head over to your cabin to drink and play cards, boot us out immediately, will ya? Call security as well and escort us out." Hughes muttered.

"Sure thing, Hughes. How ya doing, Kimmler?" Edward asked. The CMO responded by flipping his superior off. Edward simply chuckled. Edward and his 'Command Staff' had stayed up much longer than they wanted drinking vodka and whiskey and playing cards. Envy had kept on winning, much to the anger of everyone else. It was no surprise that everyone had gotten very plastered. However, because they were all super-soldiers, their metabolisms were so above-average it required both Admiral Elric, Commander Bradley, Lt. Cmdr. Hughes, Lt. Cmdr. Comstock, and Lt. Kimmler to drink to an _overly excessive_ amount for them to get drunk. However, most of the alcohol could be flushed out of their systems rather quickly by taking a _very_ long leak.

As such, Edward had to get his toilet replaced and his bathroom completely rebuilt because he couldn't stand the stench of his friends piss.

"Looks like Envy's gone. And we don't have any men and women near that position. Have they spotted our Drones?" Edward asked.

"At 74,000 feet? Not a chance in hell." Bradley sighed as he tinkered with the video controls, showing the video image of the Drones flying over the outpost. It was a relatively medium-sized outpost, and there were dozens of them along the Aerugo-Amestris Border. Edward was sure that the previous Fuhrer, King Bradley, had them built to keep the various border wars between the two countries sparking. Now, it appears that Mustang had use of them again to try to spy on the Fleet. Barracks, a mess hall, a rifle range, a command office and communications building and array, not to mention some 'long-range' telescopes. All in all, they held 10 soldiers. Standard for the Amestrian Military. _Nothing more than child's play compared to me._ Edward smirked.

"The drones overhead, are they armed?" the Admiral asked.

"No."

"Okay. Jam their comms."

"They're jammed, sir."

"Contact our missile cruisers. Have them send missiles on these co-ordinates." Came the order. The co-ordinates were the location of every Listening Outpost at the Amestris-Aerugo border. All those Amestrians had no idea what was heading their way. Fleet Admiral Edward Elric, Commander King Bradley, Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes and Lieutenant H.R. Kimmler simply didn't care.

"Hey chef, keep it coming, will ya?" Hughes muttered, offering his coffee mug. As the main 'Command Crew' watched the Amestrian Installations turn to piles of rubble, Edward got up.

"Prep a chopper for me. I'm going inland."

"To Central?"

"No. Resembool. Gonna pay my respects to my mother."

"So you're finally gonna go see her?" Hughes asked.

"Yeah. What you guys said last night... you're right. I'm stuck here, so I might as well rebuild what bridges I have left here."

"Hey, at least until your brother opens the portal and we head home." Kimmler snarked with a sloppy grin.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. If Envy wants to get ahold of me, tell him I'm busy. Bradley, I'm leaving you in command until I get back." Edward replied as he left the bridge.

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

The citizens of Central City stared in the sky as Envy's F-21 Thunderbird slowly soared overhead. Everyone wondered where the strange planes came from, and who they belonged to. It wasn't doing any good for Fuhrer Mustang, who was currently reading the morning newspaper. The headline, '_Unidentified Flying Machines Continue, Military Secret?'_

All it really was, was a writer trying to stir up trouble claiming that the military was testing a new secret weapon, and that Mustang had full knowledge of the so-called projects. They also made various claims about Ishval, about how they were somehow related. In all honesty, Mustang had half a mind to shut down the newspapers and the Central Radio. It wasn't looking good for him. Although he had made great strides to repair the damage that Bradley's Administration had done, with the advent of Admiral Elric and his Naval Battlegroup now entering the picture, things had definitely changed. Sighing, Mustang slipped on his gloves and set the paper on fire.

"Things sure were different when he was just the Fullmetal Alchemist, not the Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy." Mustang sighed.

"Ah, so the Chief came back with warships and machines that we never thought would exist. He's still the same kid."

"Jean, he's 32 years old, once commanded 5 million soldiers, claims he's a pilot, served in how many Special Forces on the other world? Not to mention he held us all at gunpoint, do you remember that? Remember how many guns he had on his body when he met with us in this office? And also on that day, do you remember him threatening us with war if we tried anything on his men?" Mustang replied.

"That's the thing, I don't think he was threatening us, just warning us. Although to be honest, I don't think I want to go into a shooting match with his soldiers." Havoc said, lighting a cigarette.

"Yeah. Neither do I."

The sound of a large jet aircraft roaring overhead caused the two to walk out onto the balcony to get a better look. The Thunderbird slowly soared over the building, just barely missing the top of the Central Command Center.

"Never seen one of them that close before, at least flying overhead. Not that slow either." Havoc muttered. The two men could see each missile, rocket, bomb, pod and canister attached to the plane.

"Something tells me that Fullmetal's preparing for a war. Did you see how many rockets that thing held?" Mustang asked.

"Sure did. I still can't believe these Americans can make vehicles like that." Havoc sighed.

"You two coming or not?" Rebecca asked from the doorway.

"Yeah, we are." Havoc said, breaking him and the Fuhrer out of their stupor. Despite Mustang being the Fuhrer, even he had to take a day off once in a while. He, his old team, and a few friends were gonna spend a few days out in the countryside to get away from the big city of Central.

Assuming, of course, that Edward wouldn't send warplanes roaring over their heads and drop missiles on their position.

Everything was ready for the trip; they had only one stop to make.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fleet Admiral of the Navy, Edward Elric_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Alphonse Elric_

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Resembool, Amestris

"Are you sure about this, Alphonse?" Hohenheim asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. It's been a while, and I don't want to lose the habit of visiting her." Al said solemnly.

Currently, Mustang and his team, along with Rebecca, Ling and Lan Fan, Winry, May, Alphonse and Hohenheim were driving to the Resembool Cemetery. Al wanted to pay his respects to his mother, not having done it in the past several months. It was on their way to a large cabin in Southern Amestris only accessible by road. It sat on a large, beautiful field that held a large lake, and it was surrounded by majestic, yet rolling hills. Mustang had found it several months ago, and used it as a 'vacation' spot whenever he and Riza wanted some time to themselves. However, he always invited his friends along whenever they were available.

They found out rather quickly, however, that Al wasn't the only Elric that went to visit his mother, as everyone found out when they saw a United States Marine Corps Humvee in Jungle Camouflage parked at the front gates of the Resembool Cemetery. A Browning M2 .50 cal Heavy Machine Gun was mounted to the top, and two racks of Grenade Launchers were mounted on the roof, nearing the front. Although they didn't see it, there was a bumper sticker on the rear that said, 'Gas, Grass or Ass. NO-ONE Rides for Free!' Needless to say, the presence of a United States vehicle made everyone just a little nervous.

Once the cars were stopped,

"Al, you, Hohenheim, Winry, May, Ling and Lan Fan, go on without us. We'll take a look at this." Mustang ordered. Mustang and his team, along with Rebecca, slowly approached the Humvee with their pistols out. Other than a few weapons, they found it to be empty, save for one passenger, resting in the rear bed: a _massive_ black-and-white Siberian husky.

"Never seen a dog that big before." Rebecca commented. The Husky's ice blue eyes opened, the dog standing on its feet. It let loose a loud howl/yawn. Now that he was standing on all four feet, everyone could see just how large the Siberian really was. Not to mention the muscle it packed, despite its thick coat. He looked as if he could swallow Black Hayate in one bite. The husky then jumped off the Humvee and ran into the graveyard at a rather fast pace, Black Hayate barking as he did so.

"Well, that was random." Havoc noted.

"Yeah. That was." Mustang muttered as he walked into the Cemetery. They found out exactly who was in the Cemetery, who the Humvee belonged to: Admiral Elric, who was currently kneeling in front of Trisha Elric's grave, AR-85 assault rifle being held in his right hand, while his left hand was busy gently scratching the Siberian Husky, behind the dog's ears. His head was down, eyes closed. His body was slightly shaking, causing the dog to nuzzle close in an attempt to comfort his master.

"I'm okay, boy. I'm okay." Edward softly whispered as he playfully scratched the Husky's neck.

"Are you alright, Brother?" Al asked. Edward looked to his left. He didn't know whether to feel disappointed at himself for letting so many of his friends and family see him in a weak position, or be glad that he wasn't the only Elric who came to pay their respects to Trisha.

"Yeah, just fine. Just..."

"Wanted to pay your respects to mom?" Alphonse asked, feeling rather brave and kneeling down next to the dog, scratching behind the mammal's ears.

"Yeah. Had a talk with my Command Staff last night, and they told me that I should try and repair the damage I've caused everyone since I came back." Edward sighed, his voice ever so slightly cracking.

"Command Staff?" Al asked, clearly unfamiliar with that term. It wasn't a legal Naval term, just something Edward came up with.

"Just a term I use to refer to the officers that are next in line to command my ship if something happens to me. Anyway, last night, I was up all night playing cards with them, and we got to talking. El-tee Comstock told me that since I could be here for a while, that I needed to rebuild what bridges I had left with the people I cared about. He's right. Ever since I came here, I've held the people I care about hostage at gunpoint, and then practically hid behind my command because I'm too much of a fucking coward to make things right." Edward spat out. Al noticed the faint smell of alcohol on his brother's breath, but decided to not say anything.

"What do you mean, hid behind your command?" Mustang asked.

"Commanding an aircraft carrier, let alone a large fleet of military ships, is not a very glorious job. It's actually somewhat stressful, having to make sure the damn ship is stocked up on supplies, fuel, weapons, etc. Having to make sure the morale of your crew is up, the morale of your fleet, make sure there are no mechanical problems with your ships, stuff like that. Unless I'm in an actual battle, there really is no need for me at the moment to be on the _America_. I've just used that ship as an excuse to stay out of Amestris." Edward sighed, rubbing his eyes. Everything was silent for a while, until Hohenheim spoke up.

"Son, do you think you were ready to return home?"

"I spent 15 years on the other side, all of it in service to the Armed Forces of the United States. My fleet and I getting trapped in that giant Transmutation Circle was purely a fluke shot, I never expected that.

To be honest, I had actually given up on returning home 3 years ago. So, no; I just wasn't ready to return home because I never thought I would return home." Edward said. That last bit of news shocked everyone: _Edward had actually given up on returning home?_

No one really said anything for a bit. It was a little hard for everyone to stomach the information they just heard from Ed's lips: he had given up on returning to Amestris. Edward stood up, slapped his rifle on his back, and stretched his limbs, groaning as he did so. He was _not_ wearing his Exo-skeleton.

"What wouldn't I give to be back in Austria. One of the few places back on the other side where I could really feel at peace." _Until I bombed the hell outta it with bio-chemical missiles to push the Russians back._ Edward cynically thought to himself.

"Country on the other side?" Winry asked.

"Yeah. Rolling green hills, lakes and streams so clear you think you're looking through glass, clear blue skies…. For a while, Austria was a pretty peaceful place. I often went there to clear my head." Edward said, his eyes going away to another place, far away from Amestris…

"We might know a place like that." Al said with a bit of an optimistic tone.

"Really?" Edward replied, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"Really. Just like how you described Austria, clear skies, rolling green hills, clear rivers and a lake, you'd like it. You're welcome to join us if you want." Al said. That last part actually came out of his mouth without even realizing it. The Siberian husky, however, looked like he wanted to go. Edward stroked his dog, wondering what he should do. Should he go the coward's way out and head back to his ship, or take his brother up on his offer and make amends?

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Ft. Briggs, Briggs Mountain Range, Northern Amestris

_Well, here we are. Ft. Briggs. Let's see what's going on up here._ Envy thought to himself as he slowed the Thunderbird down to a hover, activating his VTOL engines as he did so. Flawlessly maneuvering the Arctic camouflage-covered fighter jet across the massive steel fort, he saw a massive Drachman army engaging the Briggs defenders.

_Smart choice to put a massive wall. Huge, steep mountains covered in snow and ice make it difficult to climb up, even with proper gear. And the fort practically has the area zeroed in with their main guns, not to mention the massive height enables the defenders to rain shells down on an opposing force with good accuracy. But even still, with that many numbers, these Drachmans can still get inside if the Briggs defenses fail. Let's see, I got enough weapons to make mincemeat out of the Drachmans. Not enough to completely destroy this army, I'm only one plane after all, but I can still make them bleed badly._ Envy thought to himself, not caring who saw him.

"Admiral Elric, this is Comstock. I'm seeing a _massive_ Drachman force attacking Ft. Briggs. Repeat, Ft. Briggs is under attack by an invading Drachman force. I am armed and ready to assist. Permission to engage, over." Envy radioed.

"_Comstock, this is Commander Bradley. The Iron Eagle has left his nest, went to repair some bridges. Do not engage the Drachmans unless you are either fired upon or Ft. Briggs is about to fall. Am I clear?_" Bradley stated.

"Yes sir." Envy muttered as he acquired a weapons lock on the Drachman artillery guns.

"Weapons lock. Fire when ready." Came the autonomous computer voice from the airplanes weapons array. Envy simply rested his thumb on the 'fire' button on the joystick, debating whether he should launch missiles and send the Drachmans to their graves.

_Edward, why are you not concerned about Amestris? You know it's under attack and yet you won't save your own country?_

* * *

**I'll leave it there on that cliffhanger. Writer's block sucks, I hate having it. Please read and review, and let me know what you think of the story so far. Any comments or suggestions would be very helpful!**


	11. Chapter 10

**To all my readers, sorry this has taken so long, work has been a real bitch and has taken my time the past few weeks. It is my hope that I'll be able to put down more chapters more quickly, and I'm hoping that I'll be able to get this story rolling. Read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 10

August 10th, 1917

Ft. Briggs, Briggs Mountain Range, Amestris

"Sir, we've gotta get outta here! Now!" "That machine's slaughtering us!" "Is that a new Amestrian weapon?! Where the hell did it come from?!" "Command, we need reinforcements, we are getting slaughtered! No, it's not Ft. Briggs, they have something new that's hammering us!"

Drachman soldiers screamed loudly as the lone US Navy F-21 Thunderbird pounded the Drachman force. Although the Drachman army was very large-at least 25,000 strong-they had funneled themselves in between the mountains and Ft. Briggs. And that made them easy pickings for the lone fighter craft, whose state-of-the-art weapons made mincemeat out of the poor Drachmans.

_As easy as this is, I should've brought additional planes with me. Guess I'll have to let the defenders of Ft. Briggs take care of this. Dammit, how the hell did I run out of batteries for the laser cannons already?! State-of-the-art, my ass!_ Envy angrily thought to himself as he pulled his aircraft up, bringing it to hover over Ft. Briggs. Now that he was all out of weapons, he could only watch the Ft. Briggs defenders take their turn. Needless to say, it was easy pickings for them. After the last of the Drachman invaders were disposed of, Envy turned his plane around and headed home.

_Admiral Elric's gonna have a field day when he finds out about this. But I'm gonna have a few interesting conversations about the chief-of-the-deck about these new laser cannons. If they keep conking out on me like that, then there's no way in hell I'm gonna take them with me in combat._ Envy thought to himself.

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Ft. Briggs, Briggs Mountain Range, Amestris

"Now that was something you don't see every day." Cpt. Buccaneer remarked, staring in awe as the Thunderbird flew away. General Armstrong silently agreed. She stared over the battlefield again, just at the sheer destruction the single plane had caused. The Drachmans had started out with 25,040 soldiers and several large artillery guns. When Envy had finished his bombing run, they only had 100 soldiers left and no heavy weapons of any sort.

Massive craters littered the ground; the destroyed artillery guns and equipment still burning amidst the frozen landscape. Blood coated the snow, turning it dark red. What few stragglers survived were being picked off by snipers hiding in the surrounding mountains.

_I've never seen weapons like that before. I'll have to thank that little runt the next time I see him._

"Keep me informed of any changes."

"Sir!" Miles and Buccaneer both saluted. Inside her office, Armstrong sighed heavily as she locked the door.

_These attacks just keep coming, and they're getting worse. The Drachmans are getting bolder, and their attacks are getting more infrequent. If it wasn't for this fort, those bastards might've made their way into Amestris already._

General Olivia Armstrong sighed as she filled out another form requesting additional ammunition for the forward defenses at Briggs. Lately, despite that the factories were still producing munitions at a good rate, they just couldn't keep up with the demands that Ft. Briggs had. It was making General Armstrong furious. And just slightly nervous about the conditions of the war.

_Damn pencil-pusher diplomats who don't know a damn thing about war. We need munitions to shoot back and push the invaders back to that black hole they came from, but they don't give a damn! They just think that as long as Ft. Briggs is still standing, then the Drachmans won't get through! But even I know that it's not invincible! Not like Elric's ship!_

In all honesty, she was surprised her thoughts had turned to the Fleet Admiral and the USS America. But not too surprised. For the past three months, she found herself thinking a lot about the fleet of US Navy ships outside Aerugo. She had seen the size of the America, and had wrongly surmised that the US Navy Flagship was invincible. She couldn't be blamed though; she had never seen an aircraft carrier before, let alone a ship of that size.

"His ship has more weapons than Ft. Briggs could ever have, and the soldiers onboard look like they could take on any Drachman army and win, hands down. Maybe it has to do with their commanding officer." Olivia silently mused to herself. While she didn't like that Edward had her held at gunpoint and then threatened to shoot her, she couldn't help but admire his guts, thinking that he had definitely grown from a boy into a man. A military man. A _fine_ military man, at that. Glancing a look at the locked door, she reached down and pulled out a slew of papers and began to flip through them. They weren't military documents. Rather, they were drawings. Having inherited the Art of Portraiture from the Armstrong Family, being passed down for generations, the famed Ice Queen of Briggs was a very excellent artist. Some of them were of Ft. Briggs, the Briggs Mountain Range, some of the men stationed at said fort. The most recent ones, however, were of a certain United States Admiral. Pulling out a half-finished drawing, she let her mind somewhat absent-mindedly drift away as she let the pencil drift over the white paper.

_His eyes look like the eyes of a predator, always searching and finding weaknesses. His scars show experience, as well as his prosthetics. His body… he'd give every man at the fort a run for their money in terms of muscle mass, including Buccaneer. And the way he carried himself that day... I wouldn't mind having him with me at Ft. Briggs. If he won't shoot the place up, that is. _General Armstrong thought to herself as she finished another drawing of Admiral Elric, this one in an open Amestrian Blues jacket, showing his well-built torso.

"Pull yourself together, General. You got a war to fight." Armstrong said to herself. Putting the papers away, she grabbed the maps and headed to the main war room, mentally reminding herself to ask Admiral Elric to see if he would deploy his troops to the north.

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Liore, Amestris

Envy undid his mask and sighed heavily. He lazily gazed out his canopy and saw the desert town of Liore. This time, he took the time to study it more closely. There were still plenty of work to be done in rebuilding it since the riots when Father Cornello was disposed of, but that was almost two to three years ago. Since then, they had done a lot in rebuilding the town. Still, it made Envy wonder.

_Why hasn't Edward sent teams to rebuild this town? What was the name, Liore? Maybe Ishval takes precedence. That nation looks like a warzone._ Envy thought. He yawed the plane to the left and saw several children staring up at him with wide eyes. Envy chuckled at that.

_I can't blame them for looking at me like that. Hmm, I did pack all those colored smoke canisters. Maybe I'll give these kids something they'll never forget._ John thought as he clipped his mask on his helmet. Gently increasing the throttle, he opened the canisters and began dumping smoke in green, yellow, blue, and red colors. All the meanwhile, he was taking his plane through various maneuvers that spread smoke all around the sky into colorful shapes and designs. The kids down on the ground screamed and cheered. The veteran Navy fighter pilot simply smiled as he stared at the Amestrian children. It reminded John of his own daughters when he took them to an airshow where he flew in the sky.

_None of these kids will forget this moment. I'm gonna have to come back here and do this again._ He thought to himself, a grin on his face. For the first time in a long time, Lt. Cmdr. John Comstock, call-sign 'Envy', who was reportedly the most deadly, most vicious, and most sadistic fighter pilot in the Navy, truly felt happy and at peace.

* * *

August 10th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Sickbay, Deck 15, Corridor 1A x Hallway 5B

Carrier Strike Group-21

Aerugo Coast

Dr. Kimmler sighed as he injected another shot of IB-3 serum into the concoction he was making.

_I hope this will do the same thing that I-81 does._ He thought to himself. Putting the bottle in the Vibro-Magnet Spinner, he pressed the 'On' button and left the device on its own. He collapsed on his office chair, fighting to keep his heavy eyelids open.

_I've gotta stop drinking like I did last night. Gonna screw me up... more than I already am..._ Kimmler rested his head on his hands, hoping to get a few seconds of precious sleep. Unfortunately, his elbows slipped, his hands slammed on the console.

_-Warning: [Classified] Primary Combat Chassis System Activated.-_

_-Loading- T-I55 Backup Combat System Activated.-_

_-Loading- Combat Program Codename 'Wolverine' Activated.-_

_-Loading- Combat Program Codename 'Terminator' Activated.-_

_-Loading- 'Wolverine' Close-Quarter Claws Activated.-_

_-Loading- All CQB Programs downloaded and Activated.-_

_-Loading- SONAR, Doppler Radar, and T-1A Scanner Systems Activated.-_

_-Loading- Neural Net Interface Activated.-_

_-Loading-_

Kimmler quickly deactivated the program that he had unwittingly turned on. Despite being very sleepy, he quickly began searching the files to find a way, _some way, _to reverse what he may have just released on the world. Unfortunately…

"Dammit! Only Admiral Elric would be smart enough to put a password here that changes every five seconds! God-dammit, we're screwed." Calming himself down, Kimmler quickly contacted the bridge.

"Bradley, its Kimmler. Listen, I got bad news. I accidentally activated the T-I55 Combat System and everything else that accompanies it... Yes, I know it's bad... I don't know. I said I don't know! Okay, we'll have to keep everyone on alert. If Edward finds out... wait, where is he? HE'S WHERE?! WITH HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS IN SOUTHERN AMESTRIS?! Bradley, if he finds out or even remembers just a _tiny_ fraction, it's gonna turn into a fucking bloodbath! If we don't have anything to stop him, what makes you think Amestris does?! The State Alchemists?! Wrong, man! We know what he's capable of, he'll rip through them like a hot knife through butter, especially with that body of his! I know, I need to calm down... I know... Yes... Uh-huh... Well I don't see how that's gonna help, even our directed energy rifles are useless against him... An air strike isn't gonna do shit, that's been tried before and he turned it around like that! Sir we... Okay. Yes sir, I'll do my best."

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Southern Amestris

Fleet Admiral Edward Elric inhaled deeply, the fresh air filling his augmented lungs. He was currently standing on a large deck built onto a very large and rather luxurious cabin; the deck overlooked a beautifully green valley with streams and a very clear lake.

"Looks like you were right, Al. This does look a bit like Austria, some places of that country. How did you find this?" he asked, being careful not to lean against the wooden rail.

"Well, you'll have to ask the Fuhrer on that one. But we've taken a few vacations here occasionally." Al said, looking at the valley.

_Yes, because taking some time to relax in a beautiful valley is more important than trying to find a way to bring your own brother home, who sacrificed not only his use of alchemy, but 15 years of his life in pure hell just so you can get your body back. But that's okay. Who needs alchemy when you got enough nukes to destroy an entire country and the means to deliver them to their intended target?_ Edward thought to himself. He was then surprised; where the hell did all the jealousy and anger come from? He shouldn't be jealous at all; his brother was alive and back in his body. Of course, during his time in Ishval, he had heard rumors of how Al's name had spread rather fast among the two countries, mostly due to his combination of Alchemy and Alkahestry. Word had it that he had even curried some favor within the higher-ups of the government of Xing.

_That would make him the perfect assassin. If I wanted to get Xing in chaos, just use Al. Hardly anyone would suspect him, and if things got out of hand, I'd just eliminate him. Jesus Christ, Edward, get a grip on yourself, he's your brother! You'd never kill him or use him like that!_ Edward mentally scolded himself. However,

_But you have used others in similar situations before back on Earth. And you did hold him at gunpoint on your ship, and you even went so far to threaten to kill him. Are you sure that's not what you would want? His name has spread farther than yours ever will. At least in this world. Back on Earth, everyone knows about the 'Iron Eagle of America'. You've been called the Greatest Admiral to serve the United States Navy, among other things. On the other side, you can use your name to get anything your heart desires. Power, money, ships, weapons, women... But here, in this world, your name doesn't hold weight anymore._ That damn voice in the back of his head came back, and Edward clenched his hands to calm himself down. His younger brother noticed.

"You okay, Brother?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The officer lied. After a moment,

"Something wrong, Al?" Edward asked. He then noticed that Al was staring at his prosthetic.

"Just... We worked so hard to get our bodies back, and yet-"

"Al, listen to me: Forget about it and move on. You got your body back, and I came home. I wasn't expecting to give up my alchemy, I was certain I would never cross the gate to an alternate world, and I sure as hell never expected to be promoted to the rank of Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy, but shit happens, Alphonse; just gotta accept it and move on!" Edward said, his military voice coming into play. He only used that tone when he needed to talk some sense into his soldiers that weren't performing to the best of their ability. Needless to say, it was one of the many things that made Edward the most preferred officer to serve under in the _entire_ US Military. However, Alphonse Elric wasn't a soldier, he was Edward's younger brother.

"I know. It's just... I feel a little angry that I can still use alchemy and you can't. Not to mention I thought you were gonna get your limbs back, and instead…" Al sighed, unable to finish the sentence. Edward noticed that tears were starting to form in Al's eyes. _Is Al feeling guilty that I'm still stuck with two prosthetics?_ Edward thought, surprised. Edward wrapped his insanely strong arms around his younger brother.

"It's okay, Al. You don't need to feel guilty about my current condition, I don't care about the fake limbs, the scars, about not being able to use Alchemy anymore, my rank and command, and I don't care about any of that. You're my little brother, and nothing's gonna change that." Edward whispered. Al was glad, he felt that his brother was back. And he didn't want it to change. However, he felt something on his leg: the large Siberian Husky sniffing him.

"Hey, Riley." Edward whispered, petting his dog.

"I guess Riley is his name?" Al asked, kneeling down.

"Yeah. He's taken a liking to you real quick. Probably because you're my brother. That's not a trait he's very known for." Edward smiled. Riley began licking Al's face, causing the younger Elric to laugh.

"How come you never told us you had a pet dog?" Al asked.

"Had him on the _USS Iowa_, one of the battleships in my fleet,because he wasn't feeling so good. The doctor on that ship is also a veterinarian on the side, so I trust him. Kimmler's a good doctor, best I've seen. But there's no way in hell I'd let him touch my dog." Edward replied. Looking out in the valley,

"Looks like everyone's heading to the lake for a swim. Wanna go?"

"Sure." Al said with a smile, getting to his feet. Edward then jumped over the rail and landed on the ground. Riley jumped over the rail and landed on all four feet. Al watched the two with wide eyes.

_That fall had to have been well over 14 feet. And no broken ankle or even a sprained one? And his dog as well? And when he hugged me, why did I get the feeling that he was a lot stronger than he looks? Even with all the muscle? What's different about you, Brother?_

* * *

August 10th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Coast of Aerugo

"LSO, this is el-tee Commander Comstock, requesting clearance to land, over."

"_Commander Comstock, this is the LSO. Checkers green, speed two-ten. Call the ball, over._"

"Copy, my ball. Coming in now." the veteran pilot responded as he slammed the plane on the deck, the tail hook snagging the fourth wire. The massive Thunderbird suddenly jerked to a halt. Another successful landing. As he maneuvered the plane on the elevator, he undid his mask and removed his helmet. John rubbed his eyes and thought over the events of the day. _Dumped off all those fly-drones, wiped out an invading army, found out the new laser cannons suck shit, and made some damn good memories for some kids in Liore. I'm gonna have to do that again real soon._ John thought as he signed off the checklist. Leaving the helmet in the seat, he hopped out of the cockpit and hurriedly made his way to the-

"_Lieutenant Commander Comstock, please report to the Commander's Cabin. Repeat, Lieutenant Commander Comstock, please report to the Commander's Cabin._"

Envy sighed, but followed his orders nonetheless. Once he was there,

"What's up?" he asked, opening the fridge and grabbing a drink.

"Two things. First, Cosmo Kramer, the food mart has been closed for some time now, remember?" Bradley joked. Envy clenched his hands in anger, he _hated_ being called Kramer. Although he enjoyed _Seinfeld_, he hated being compared to the eccentric hipster-doofus from that old sitcom.

"What do want?" he growled.

"John, we called you up here because... okay, look. As a member of the Command Staff, we felt it was important that you know." Hughes began.

"Know what?" Envy asked.

"The T-I55 Combat System has just been activated." Kimmler stated bluntly. Envy choked on his drink, quickly spitting it out.

"WHAT?! Damn, does anyone else know?" the pilot asked, his eyes growing large.

"No, not yet anyway. Look, we need to keep a very close eye on Edward. If we notice any strange changes in him, we need to be ready. If he's growing more violent, more destructive, anything like that, we need to be ready." Bradley said sternly.

"What about the people in Amestris? His friends and family? Shouldn't we tell them as well? Because if he flips while he's in the country, it's gonna turn into a bloodbath." Envy put in.

"I don't know how well they'll take that. Not to mention if they'll actually believe us or not." Hughes.

"I don't want to underestimate the seriousness of the situation, we all know what Edward can do. But are we overreacting about this? As far as I know, we've never had this happen before."

"It's happened once, before you actually met him, two years before. When we brought him in to see what had happened to him. He... well, it wasn't pretty, I will say that. I know, I was there. Still gives me nightmares. Bradley and I were both there. All those years ago, ever since that incident, he's grown stronger and faster. And with his augments and training..." Hughes trailed off.

"We can't stop him, can we?" Envy sighed, worry seeping in his voice.

"No, we can't." Bradley sighed.

"If we can't stop him, who else will?" Envy asked, getting up and leaving the room.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Command Staff, USS America_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fleet Admiral Edward Elric_

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Southern Amestris

"CANNONBALL!" Edward yelled as he jumped into the lake. A massive plume of water shot into the air as the Navy officer quickly swam to the shore.

"I'm amazed you can swim as well as you can with those prosthetics." Winry said, smiling.

"Well, they're waterproof. When you have to participate in deep-sea military operations, you gotta make sure your equipment will work properly." Edward sighed, collapsing on the ground, water pooling around his body.

"Hey, I'm sorry how I acted that day. I know I should've treated you better, and instead..." Edward trailed off. Winry planted a soft kiss on Edward's cheek. Even with his training, he still blushed. Only slightly, however.

"It's okay, Edward. I can't stay mad at you forever."

"Yeah, the only person who can would probably be Teacher. She was furious after you left the helicopter." Al said with a smile.

"I can take her, easily." Edward said rather confidently.

"I don't know, she was pretty pissed. Said a lot of stuff about how you had changed, how you had sold yourself out for serving the military, how you aligned yourself with a bunch of murders who cover their actions with a uniform, a lot of bullshit like that. I guess she forgot the sacrifice you made to bring your brother back." Havoc said.

"Maybe so. She has that right, though." Edward said. However, the gears began spinning in his head on how he was gonna 'repay' Izumi's comments.

"I don't think she meant any disrespect, son. I think she was surprised about everything." Hohenheim said gently.

"Yeah, she probably was. I know I could've handled the situation better, but I didn't. Maybe I should go see her and talk to her about it. But, I got something else I need to do first." Edward said, getting to his feet. Walking over to his Humvee, he reached inside and pulled out a notepad containing very detailed drawings and blueprints of his so-called harbor he wanted constructed.

"Hey dad, can I ask a favor from you?" Edward asked.

"Of course son, what is it?"

"Well, I've been thinking of building a harbor at Aerugo where my ships are at. A place to house them, repair them, something that can make it easier to offload troops and cargo. I have all the blueprints here, and I was wondering if you'd be able to help out with that, you being a Human Philosopher Stone and all, might help the construction process quicker and easier." Edward said, walking over.

"I'd be happy to help you, Edward." Hohenheim said, looking at the pictures very intently. As he did so, Edward noticed Riley and Black Hayate gently playing with each other, although it was obvious who was winning. The massive Siberian Husky could kill Black Hayate with a single bite.

"I've never seen Riley play with other dogs like that, who aren't K-9 units in my fleet." Edward muttered.

"You have dogs in your military?" Riza asked, sitting down with a towel across her shoulders.

"Yeah, militaries in the other world have been using dogs for hundreds, if not thousands of years. They're very good at what they do."

"What breed is your dog?"

"Siberian Husky. We use them the most, along with the German shepherd's. Riley is my personal dog. Found him when he was a pup, raised him ever since. Then I augmented him to help him out in the field."

"Augmented?" Ling asked.

"Yeah. In my military, humans and dogs undergo similar biological, chemical and cybernetic augmentation to their bodies that turn them into super soldiers. Men and women with superior speed, superior strength, increased stamina, heightened agility and an overall awareness around them, superior eyesight, muscle and bones augmented to be nearly unbreakable, stuff like that. It was all created to help create the world's best army of soldiers. We can detect the heat output from your body and the surroundings, scan your body and detect your strength and weaknesses, scan and discern if you have any weapons on your body and what kind you have, stuff like that. I can't really reveal much because it's classified, and I can't explain it to you because, no offense, but you wouldn't be able to comprehend it. We're just stronger, faster and more durable than average humans." Edward said very nonchalantly.

"You seem to have a fairly good knowledge of this." The Emperor said somewhat suspiciously. Edward caught on, however.

"That's because I'm a super-soldier. One of the best in the entire military." Edward said with a cold grin. Riley suddenly jerked his head up and ran toward the Humvee, barking as he did so. Edward immediately ran over to his vehicle.

"What is it, boy?" Edward asked. Riley nudged a headset with his snout. Wondering what was up, Edward grabbed the headset and turned it on, not realizing he was gathering a small audience from his friends and family.

"Yes?" Edward asked.

"_Admiral, I need your current location! We're under attack, I repeat, CSG-21 is currently under attack! I need your current location for the evac chopper!_" came Bradley's voice.

"Say again, Commander? Did you just say you were under attack?" Edward said, his command voice coming into play.

"_Yes, that's right! I've ordered all the troops on the ground to head to northern Aerugo, and the fleet is currently leaving the coast! Something's going on here, I've never seen anything like it before!_"

"Hold on, before you send the rescue chopper, tell me what's going on!"

"_Big bolts of red lightning, the ground is literally changing on the beachhead, and there are large lightning bolts zigzagging on the water, some of them circling around the ships! I'm bringing the fleet back and will commence a bombardment once we're in position! Where is your location, over?_"

"Commander, what is the beachhead changing into?" Edward asked.

"_Hold on. Um, looks like some sort of harbor of some sort. I'm seeing cranes, ports, dry-docks, holding facilities, even a few runways. You mind explaining to me what's going on, Admiral?_" Bradley asked, confused. Edward collapsed on the ground, laughing. He knew exactly what was happening, and his XO's reactions made him laugh.

"_That wasn't the answer I was expecting_."

"You... you're... you're not under attack, Commander!" Edward laughed.

"_Say again?_"

"What you're seeing is alchemy! My dad is a very powerful alchemist and he's building a harbor for us, and you mistook it for an attack on the fleet!" Edward cackled, laughing his ass off. Bradley was very embarrassed.

"Is there a problem, Edward?" Hohenheim asked.

"No, no problem at all. You just managed to scare several battle-hardened Navy officers, that's all. See, they've never seen alchemy being used before, so they just assumed they were under attack and took appropriate action, that's all." Edward said, snickering as he did so.

"I apologize if I scared your soldiers, son, that wasn't my intention at all."

"It's alright. It's partly my blame as well, I should've called them up and told them what was gonna happen."

"Speaking of alchemy and your ships, I'm curious, how was it that I couldn't use my alchemy when I was on your ship?" Al asked.

"Why do you think?" Edward asked, scratching his neck.

"Well, the only other time I know of that was when we first met Father underneath Central Command. But that had to do with when he changed the energy underneath the crust of the Earth and cancelled our attacks. Were you able to do something like that? Because, to be honest, that sounds very far-fetched."

"What you and every other alchemist felt on-board my ship was the result of an experimental weapon I had installed on my ship during the last two years of World War III. Its purpose is to block certain areas of the human brain from functioning properly. I built it to stop enemy super-soldiers with certain so-called mental 'super' powers, but I never thought it would actually work to prevent alchemy from being used on-board my ship. It was just a gambit to see if it would work to prevent you guys from attacking my CAG and XO."

* * *

August 10th, 1917

Dublith, Amestris

Curtis Meats

(1:17 AM...)

Mason walked down to the kitchen to grab a drink of water, yawning as he did so. As he walked the corner, he felt a strong hand grab wrap around his mouth. Before he could react, United States steel in the form of a combat knife was suddenly imbedded in his heart. Death was instantaneous. Edward Elric gently and quietly laid the body down on the floor. Pulling out his knife, Edward put it back in his hilt and grabbed his AR-85 rifle, a silencer now on the end. Quietly, he worked his way through the house.

_[Scanning for Targets-]_

_[Two heat signatures, 4 meters north. 3 meters north. 2 meters north. 1 meter north.]_

_[Unidentified man and women present. Audio signals detected.]_

"Edward, what are you doing here?" Izumi asked.

_[Terminate target? Y/N?]_

_[Y]_

Admiral Elric raised his rifle and fired.

_[Target successfully neutralized. Audio signals detected.]_

"IZUMI, NO!" Sig screamed as he charged the Admiral. He met the same fate: his body torn in half due to the 7.62 HEAP/I rounds detonating in his muscular body.

_[Target successfully neutralized. Casualties-3.0. Mission Accomplished.]_

* * *

August 11th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Aerugo Harbor [Codename: New Pearl Harbor]

Bridge, Deck 1

"As soon as the techheads give us the all clear, we're moving in. Looks like Ed's father really hooked us up, dry docks, repair facilities, barracks, mess halls, command rooms, runways, hangers, anti-ship and anti-aircraft installations, you name it, and we got it." Bradley said, clearly impressed.

"I guess that's what alchemy can do for you. No wonder the Admiral is such a fan of it." Hughes said, staring at the new harbor. The two were currently staring at the massive harbor that had given the entire fleet a scare yesterday. It looked ready for action, all that was needed was the spare nuclear reactor from the _USS America_ to power the entire facility.

"Commander Bradley, it's Fuhrer Mustang, he wants to speak to you." Lt. Eitherson reported.

"What does that man want now?" Bradley have sighed, half snarled. Taking the headset,

"Edward's ship, Bradley speaking. Uh-huh. Yeah, that's right. Really? Uh-huh... Okay... Wait, what? Hit him in the head with a beer bottle? Jesus Christ, is he okay? Okay. Wait, he did WHAT?! SHOT THE WHOLE HOUSE UP? Okay, I'll talk to him. You're right, he won't tell you anything... Nothing I can do about that now. Okay. Okay. I know. Look, how 'bout we grab a drink and talk about it? Would it be okay if I brought two or three men with me who know Edward very well, from my world at least? Madame Christmas. Okay, that can work, but you're gonna have to explain to me where it is. How about we meet at the southern end of Central City and I follow you in. Okay, I'll see you then." Bradley put the headset away and sighed deeply.

"What's wrong?" Hughes asked.

"Last night, Edward had a horrible nightmare, everyone in the house had heard it. Alphonse went downstairs to help him. Found his brother in the kitchen with an AR-85 rifle and a M240 SAW. Tried to talk to Ed about his nightmares, and Edward told him to leave. He then threw a beer bottle at Al, shredded his face pretty damn good. He then shoots the house up, keeping everyone else at bay while he left. After that, they had no idea where he went." Bradley summed up solemnly.

"Jesus Christ, he did that? This just keeps getting better and better. No wonder he was so tired when he reported in last night." Hughes muttered. John Comstock then walked in.

"King, Maes, just got done talking with Edward. Did you guys know that he's been plotting an invasion of Amestris?" Envy asked.

_Son of a Bitch, it's starting all over again._ Bradley sighed.

* * *

**Hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Thanks to all those that have favorited this story recently, and don't forget to review, they definitely help!**


	12. Chapter 11

**I'm still alive, people! Here's the next chappie of Fullmetal's War! Decided to throw in some things that should shake things up a bit between Edward and his Amestrian comrades. Please read and review! Enjoy!**

**Also, theprincedonte, in response to your review, you're getting your wish!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 11

August 11th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

"You wanna explain to me what the hell happened last night, Admiral? And why John has just told me you're planning an invasion of Amestris, your own home?!" Bradley growled as he stormed into his CO's cabin. Edward was currently standing over his desk, overlooking a map of Amestris. Several marks were made on the map, along with some red arrows that obviously showed were future troop movements were to be made.

"Comms just intercepted this radio message. Listen to it." Edward said, playing the message.

"_Attention, all Amestrian Forces in the East, this is Riza Hawkeye Mustang, First Lady of Amestris and General of the Eastern Battalion and intern commander of the Eastern Forces. All Amestrian Forces are to remain on standby and be ready for a possible attack by American forces stationed in Ishval. I repeat, all Amestrian Forces are to remain on standby and be ready for a possible attack by American forces stationed in Ishval._"

"If Riza wants to fight us, then that's her decision. It'll be a bloodbath on her part, that's for sure." Edward smirked.

"Edward, do you want to know what I was just told? Mustang called us up and told us that you smashed a beer bottle into your brother's face and sent him to the hospital for quick surgery, and that was after you shot the house up to pieces. Now, what the hell happened last night?"

"Had a nightmare, nothing special there. My brother came downstairs and tried to talk to me, I told him to leave, said there was nothing he could do to possibly help me overcome my nightmares. He kept staying, kept pushing me, so I lost my temper and tossed a bottle in his face."

"And you shooting the house up as you left? What was all that about?" Bradley asked, still angry. Edward had a confused look on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Edward asked, very confused.

"Mustang told me that as you left you shot the house up. Want to explain that to me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Commander, I really don't." Edward said.

"What do you remember?" Bradley asked.

"Smashed a beer bottle into Al's face, then the next thing I remember was driving into the base at the Capital of Aerugo and boarding a chopper to head back to the _America_. Beyond that, I remember nothing."

_Would Mustang lie about that? Or does Edward really not remember?_ Bradley thought.

"Okay, I'll take your word for it. So, what are you gonna do now?" Bradley asked.

"Now, I'm gonna get the spare nuclear reactor over to New Pearl Harbor and get it up and running. Then, after that, I'm gonna see what's wrong with our thermal."

"I've been thinking about that as well. I mean, it's showing an extraordinarily large population in Aerugo, but the country is uninhabited. Well, if you discount our troops in the capital city."

"Yeah, that's what makes it so strange. Oh, by the way, Mustang doesn't know about us hitting his listening outposts. Doesn't have a clue."

"He'll find out sooner or later."

"Maybe. Which is why I'm gonna stay here at the fleet and get ready for a possible confrontation. Hope for the best, plan for the worst. Know what I mean?"  
"You know as well as I do Mustang doesn't stand a chance against us. Speaking of Fuhrer Mustang, I'm gonna meet with him tonight at a bar called 'Madame Christmas'. Wants to talk to me about what happened last night."

"Who else is going?" Edward asked, grabbing a cigarette.

"So far, it's me, Hughes, Comstock and Kimmler."

"Okay. I'll keep a Delta Force team on standby to bust you guys out if things go south. Don't hesitate to call me if it gets that far."

"Okay, we'll let you know. I think I'm gonna go to Ishval, see how our men and women are doing over there." Bradley surmised.

"I wouldn't suggest it, but if you want, then okay. I'll keep a large contingent of Marines and troopers ready to bust you out of the Ishvalans try to kill you, and I'll inform our forces stationed in Ishval as well. Don't hesitate to defend yourself, do you understand me?" Edward said sternly.

"I do." Bradley said.

"Okay. Besides, I think that'll be good for you go get out, instead of being cooped up here."

"What, am I starting to get pale?" Bradley chuckled.

"Well, there's no substitute for real sunlight. Not even the holo-imager can do that." Edward smiled.

"Okay. I'm sending Comstock back up to Ft. Briggs, see what else is going on up there. Hopefully, he won't disobey my orders this time." Edward's eyes went wide.

"What?" Disobeying orders on a U.S. Navy ship carried a serious consequence, more so on the USS America.

"He found a Drachman invading army attacking the fort and took matters in his own hands. I told him to fire only if he was fired upon, instead he wiped out the whole army on his own. What do you think his punishment should be?" Bradley asked. Edward thought it over.

He couldn't let this type of behavior go unpunished. Despite that he was Edward's best friend and his best pilot, he couldn't let this simply go. Then again, John 'Envy' Comstock never really had a sane mind. Being from an extremely abusive household, he suffered tremendous mental and emotional trauma when he was a child and teenager. It was actually a miracle that he passed the psyche exam and granted entrance to the US Military. The result of all that pent in anger, was that if he didn't simply lash out and kill and hurt anyone around him periodically, it would burst out and more people would suffer. During World War III, Edward would routinely let John take his plane out on his own and just shoot and bomb the hell out of whatever he saw, as long as it wasn't American or Allied forces he was targeting. It was simply one way to keep the mentally unstable pilot on his leash, and was actually their most effective. However, he wasn't the most dangerous man on the ship...

Also, John was going out of his way to defend a country that wasn't his. How many times had Edward risked his life to defend the United States of America, a country that he didn't really belong to? And now he was back home, with the means to protect Amestris, yet he wasn't doing a thing.

"Nothing. Let it go, for now." Edward sighed. Just as Bradley was about to offer a rebuttal, the door opened up. A U.S. Marine walked in. A metal box was in his hands, the kind used to carry .50 cal BMG ammunition.

"Sorry to interrupt you, sirs, but we found something in Aerugo. You know how our thermal is being screwed up all over the country?"

"Yes, we were just talking about it, you find anything new?" Bradley asked.

"Well, we got to thinking. There's an awfully large amount of trees in the country, where they shouldn't be. Our thermal is picking them up, and that's not supposed to happen. Not normally. So, we decided to cut one down and see what was up. And, well, we found this inside." The Marine said, handing the box to the Admiral. Edward grabbed the container and opened it. His eyes went wide.

"You found this in a tree in Aerugo?" he asked very softly.

"Yes sir. And plenty more in more trees, all across the country. You cut a tree down, you'll find either one or several of these objects inside them."

"Thank you, private, that will be all. You're dismissed." Edward said very quickly. Once the Marine was gone, Edward closed the door and locked it. He reached into the container and pulled out a shiny, red stone.

"Admiral, what's that?"

"The game has changed, Commander Bradley. When you meet up with Mustang tonight, find out everything he knows. I've been going over the documents we took from our SEAL raid, but they're still complicated. Since I'm the only alchemist on the ship, I'm the only one that has a chance at cracking them." Edward said, referring to the large amounts of papers pinned on the walls.

"So, is your new nickname gonna be John Nash now?" Bradley asked.

"This is serious, Bradley. Do you know what this is?" Edward asked, holding up the stone.

"No."

"This is a Philosopher Stone. These objects help amplify the ability of an alchemist, giving said alchemist much greater power than normal. Like power needed to create a fully workable harbor for a military fleet."

"Okay. Why does this stone have you paralyzed, though? What's so scary about it?"

"In order to create a Philosopher Stone, you need ingredients. The ingredient for this thing, is human lives." Bradley's eye went wide at that.

"Live humans are needed to create that thing? How?"

"I don't know. I was once on a desperate search for this when I was young, but when I found out, I decided to find another way to get my brother's body back. Dozens, hundreds, perhaps thousands of human souls could be trapped in this one stone. This… this thing… this is the devil's research."

"But what does this stone have to do with Aerugo? If our men are in danger, then we need to pull them out now."

"No, they're not in danger. An alchemist is required to create one of these. But maybe this is connected to Aerugo. Think about it, a fairly large sized country completely empty with overgrown trees growing all over the place, and inside them are these Philosopher Stones, probably made from the country's former inhabitants? Think about it."

"Admiral, when it comes to stuff concerning alchemy, I will take your word on it 100%. Nevertheless, I would like all our forces stationed in Aerugo to be put on standby."

"They will be."

* * *

August 11th, 1917

Amestrian-Xingese Trade, Commerce Center &amp; Railroad

Amestris/Ishval Border

The Amestrian-Xingese Trade, Commerce Center &amp; Railroad facility was booming, as usual. Built a few months after the defeat of Father and his Homunculi, it was the main hub connecting both Xing and Amestris. Originally a brainchild between Ling Yao and Roy Mustang, it had turned into a massive trading hub between the two countries, and due to it being stationed in Ishval, it was to help tremendously in helping rebuild Ishval. However, plans change. Ever since the Drachmans declared war against Amestris, the station had turned into a small military installation. Amestrian and Xingese soldiers and warriors mingled about, ready to destroy any possible Drachman threat.

As such, train cars were searched thoroughly in case there were possible terrorists. When Edward's Forces had arrived, they had given the defenders quite a shock; they had simply never seen such an advanced and powerful military before. Despite all the construction equipment that was hauled into the country, the U.S. Forces had brought with them plenty of heavy weapons as well: Tanks, Self-propelled artillery, mobile SAM's, mobile flak weaponry, Humvee's, Stryker's, Bradley APC's, and several helicopters that were outfitted for crop-dusting missions. However, they were still heavily armed and could dish out tremendous pain.

In the main command room, Fuhrer Mustang, his wife and several top officers were standing over a map of Ishval. Along with some Ishvalan officials, architects, and U.S. officers who were in charge of the re-construction of Ishval.

"So, this is the latest count?" Mustang asked.

"Yes sir. 2,982 souls. The Ishvalan people are re-building. Slowly, but surely. We still have the Kanda, Morga, and Heldin districts to take care of, but I don't think they'll be too much of a problem." Lieutenant Green pointed out on the map.

"Rebuilding the land won't be a problem, thanks to your help, but it's getting the rest of the Ishvalans to arrive that's gonna be the issue. With the war with Drachma, that's gonna put a strain on our resources." Hawkeye pointed out.

"And if we decided to go after them, if they saw armored choppers fly in and armed soldiers rounding them up, they'll think they're under attack or being sent to another prison. Remember, your people were suspicious of us when we showed up on your doorstep." Green said to an Ishvalan official.

"Yes, we were. But you and your brothers and sisters have been tremendous help to us. Lieutenant Green, the people of Ishval owe our gratitude to you and your officers. Now, we have schools, parks, places of worship, hospitals, homes, markets…. We really are starting to come back."

"Don't thank me, sir, thank Admiral Elric. He's the one who made this all-Officer on Deck!" he suddenly yelled out, saluting Commander Bradley who had just walked in. He and every other American soldier saluted the veteran officer. Bradley wore his Navy Tactical Uniform with an Exo-skeleton. His only weapon was a Desert Eagle in his holster, with five additional mags. Even so, his impressive muscular physique gave him the impression of clearly holding his own in hand-to-hand.

"As you were." he replied. The mood had turned different. Every Ishvalan and Amestrian eyed him with distrust, and every American now stood on edge, waiting, just waiting to protect their superior.

"Commander Bradley. May I ask as to what you are doing here?" Fuhrer Mustang folded his arms.

"Thought I'd come out and help my soldiers with their work. Had enough of being cooped on that godforsaken ship. Are we still on for tonight, Fuhrer, for that drink?" Bradley suddenly asked. That caught Roy off guard.

"Uh, yes, we still are."

"Okay. Okay, good. Um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?" Bradley asked, gently rubbing his neck.

"Is there something you wanted to discuss with us?" Hawkeye asked.

"Well, more along the lines of something I wanted to show you. Something that, I think you might need to see." Bradley said. Getting the impression that he wasn't going to reveal anything else,

"Okay. What do you want to show us?" Roy asked.

"Follow me."

Motioning for the Ishvalans to stay behind, Mustang and his subordinates followed him, all the while being followed by U.S. Marines-who had rather itchy trigger fingers. Heading down the narrow hallway,

"I understand that when we started this whole project, a room in facility was given to us for our use, correct?" Bradley asked.

"Yes, that's right. But your soldiers don't let us in, only allow American personnel inside." Mustang said. Once they reached the door, which was guarded by two U.S. Army Rangers and a massive Siberian Husky that was almost similar to Edward's dog, Riley,

"There's a reason for that. A lot of sensitive equipment and data in here that we don't want tampered with." Bradley said. He pulled his dog-tags off and held them to the scanner on the door frame. The steel door unlocked itself, and Bradley led the way in. Mustang's eyes went wide when he saw the inside of the room, as did every other Amestrian.

"When I told Edward he could use this as his command center, I didn't think he would go all out like this." Roy said, stunned. Highly advanced computer screens and consoles littered the room, along with video feeds from drones and helicopters that were flying over Ishval, feeding the officers up-to-date information on the reconstruction project.

"So, is this what you wanted to show us?" Cpt. Falman asked.

"No. Private, give me contact with Lieutenant Commander Comstock." Bradley ordered.

"You're on, sir."

Picking up the headset,

"Envy, its Bradley. Are you at Tango-Whiskey 1?"

"_Yes sir._" The sound of Envy's voice made Mustang fold his arms tightly. The sound of that voice, the voice of the Homunculus, the _monster_ that killed his best friend years ago... oh, how he wanted to torch that man. But whenever he thought of doing that, Edward's words always came back to haunt him:

_If you, or any other Amestrian, makes any aggressive actions against my soldiers and officers, I will consider that an act of war against the United States of America, and I will respond accordingly._

_I'll give Amestris five hours to mount an effective resistance against my forces._

Simply put, Mustang couldn't do anything because he couldn't risk a war against Edward's forces. Truth to be told, he didn't want to risk a war against the CSG-21.

"Envy, I need a firing solution. Some place that can take a severe beating. Got anything in mind?"

"_Yeah, hold on. I'm seeing a massive mountain here, could be what we're looking for. I'll send the video feed now._"

One of the large TV screens fizzled and showed the video feed from Envy's plane, which was currently hovering in the Briggs Mountain Range.

"What you ladies and gentlemen are currently seeing is a current video feed from my CAG's plane. A camera is filming this right now, and is sending it back here for our enjoyment to watch. Don't ask me how it works. John, can you give me co-ordinates on this slab of rock about... Make it 48 yards from the tip."

"_Hold on. Okay, got the co-ordinates. Sending them to you now._"

"We go the co-ordinates, sir."

"Bradley, what are you trying to show us?" Mustang asked, his patience starting to wear thin.

"Patience, my friend, all in good time. Give me contact with the _USS America._"

"You're on."

"_USS America, _this is Commander Bradley, how copy, over?"

"_Commander Bradley, this is Admiral Elric. This better be good._" Edward's voice echoed in the room.

"I just recently sent you co-ordinates for a firing mission for the ship's main railguns. I'd like you to hit them, as a demonstration for our Amestrian friends here. You did tell them our guns could hit Ft. Briggs from its current position, did you not?"

"_Yeah, I did. I got the co-ordinates. Alright, fire up the main battery! Give me a firing solution, 221 carom 882! Angle, 25! Range, over 200 miles north!" _Edward Elric barked out his orders. The same words could be heard in the back ground on the radio.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you will please pay attention to the TV screen, you will witness a feat of tactical prowess and military firepower that will leave holes in your minds for the rest of your lives." Bradley snarked.

"_Main battery at the ready, Admiral."_

"_FIRE!"_

On the screen, two white lines suddenly hit the mountain, before a massive cloud of dust and snow filled the monitor.

"Comstock, you there? Status, now." Bradley ordered.

"_I'm still here, XO. Just waiting for the dust to die down._"

Once the dust and snow went away, every eye belong to an Amestrian went wide: more than ¾ of the mountain was _gone_.

"We estimate that mountain to be twice the size of Ft. Briggs. Now, you're probably wondering why I showed this to you. Ensign, play it." Bradley ordered, his voice very stern.

"_Attention, all Amestrian Forces in the East, this is Riza Hawkeye Mustang, First Lady of Amestris and General of the Eastern Battalion and intern commander of the Eastern Forces. All Amestrian Forces are to remain on standby and be ready for a possible attack by American forces stationed in Ishval. I repeat, all Amestrian Forces are to remain on standby and be ready for a possible attack by American forces stationed in Ishval._"

Riza suddenly felt much betrayed by her own words.

"I showed you this demonstration of our power to warn you, to not go to war against us. You can prepare as much as you want, Fuhrer Mustang, but it will never be enough. Now, I don't know what happened last night, but that's why I want to talk it over with you tonight. Find out what happened. But don't you dare make the mistake of thinking you can stand toe-to-toe with us on military grounds. You wouldn't even last five hours against us." Bradley growled.

"Commander Bradley... That message... That-" Mustang found it hard to speak.

"I don't care what you're gonna say, Mustang. As of this moment, we'll be watching you. And we _will_ be ready."

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Commander King Bradley_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes_

* * *

August 11th, 1917

Central Hospital

Central City, Amestris

Al slowly woke up to a throbbing headache and a very sore body. Softly moaning, he brought his right hand up to his head, finding that the left side was covered in bandages, along with his eye. The events of the previous night still rang fresh in his mind: hearing his brother thrash around on the couch last night, his nightmare loud enough for everyone upstairs to hear. Walking downstairs to find him with two machine guns and a beer in his hands. Arguing, and then BAM! Said bottle gets thrown at him, cutting his head up very good.

Alphonse hated the feeling of being helpless. But there was nothing he could do last night. Despite the severe lacerations, Al tried to bring his brother down. The result was being thrown through the dinner table, snapping it in half and receiving a steel elbow to his back. Not enough to paralyze him, but enough to put him in enough pain to prevent him from moving. He was also tossed through the wall of the kitchen and then through the wall of the front of the house. The worst was the injuries to his head; some of the glass had been embedded so deep that not even Mai's Alkahestry could help him. After a quick stop at Resembool so Pinako could perform emergency surgery, he was quickly rushed to the Central Hospital where the doctors worked on him. As such, Mustang put him under heavy guard, although it wouldn't do any real good to protect him, not when all Edward had to do was send a fighter jet overhead to drop a bomb on the hospital. Darius, Heinkel, Jerso and Zampano were friends of Alphonse, and they were good fighters, but even they couldn't stop a high explosive rocket fired from a Mustang II interceptor.

As such, another high-ranking American operative was coming to see him, as Al found out from the voices on the other side of the door.

"_Sorry, Fuhrer Mustang's orders. No one except the Fuhrer, the First Lady, and their subordinates can see him._" Jerso said.

"Jerso, it's okay. Let him in." Alphonse said weakly. Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes walked in.

"Mr. Hughes." Alphonse sighed, trying to sit up.

"Ah, you lie down. You look like you need it." Hughes said, closing the door. And locking it.

"Alphonse, you seem like a good kid. I, uh, I don't want there to be any hard feelings. You can trust me, okay?" Hughes said warmly, pulling up a chair next to the bed.

"You know, I know you're a different Maes Hughes from the one in this world. But I look at you… you just remind me so much of him. The Mr. Hughes from this world." Al said with a soft smile.

"Yeah? How so?" Hughes said, lighting up a cigar.

"Well, you're both family men. Both crazy about your wives and daughters. Always in a happy mood. You're both in the military. I guess the only difference, besides the obvious, is that you smoke and he didn't, and that you're under my brother's command."

"Speaking of wife and daughter, have I ever shown you a picture of my family?" Hughes said, pulling a picture from his jacket pocket. Al smiled when he saw it, it was a picture of Maes, Gracia and Elicia at Pearl Harbor, before CSG-21 shipped out to the Sea of Japan.

"Just like this world. Besides the big ships, of course."

"So, when do I get to meet my counterpart face-to-face?" Hughes asked, taking the picture back.

"Um, you can't. I don't know if Brother ever told you, but... your counterpart is dead."

An awkward silence hung in the air.

"Huh." Was all the Navy officer said.

"But he was a good man. He was always willing to help Brother and I out."

"I guess that's another similarity. I've always been there to help your brother out during tough situations. So... do you wanna tell me what happened last night?" Maes asked. Alphonse swallowed.

"I don't wanna get him in trouble..." Alphonse said softly.

"Alphonse, you may not fully understand this, but in my world, your brother is a very, _very_ powerful man. There are only two people he answers to in the US government, and he's the highest ranking officer representing the United States in this world at the moment. He's not gonna get in trouble, I promise." Hughes said gently. Still, there was silence.

"Look. I think that's very admirable what you just said. From what I understand, my superior smashed a beer bottle over your head, cut you up badly, and then shot the house up as he left with two machine guns. And yet you said that you don't want him to get in trouble. Despite what he did to you, you still care about him. And believe me, we want to help your brother. But in order to do that, I'd like to know everything that happened last night, I don't have the full details."

Alphonse wanted to tell him, but he found his tongue tied. Hughes, however, knew that something was up. He scooted closer and hugged the younger Elric, very gently though.

"You're scared of him, aren't you?" Hughes asked.

"Yes, I am. Hughes, please don't let him know. Please don't tell Brother." Al sobbed.

"Your secret is safe with me, Alphonse. I'm very good at them, that's my job in the US Military. Please, tell me. What happened?" Hughes asked. Feeling that he was safe in Hughes arms, Alphonse relented.

"Okay. Everyone was asleep, Edward chose to sleep downstairs. Suddenly, we heard all this yelling. He was shouting, and sounded like he was in pain. Something about a MiG, someone named Steve, how Brother wanted to bring him home, telling him to not do something. Something about a discharge, about Steve's wife and kids, and then he woke up with a loud yell. After a while, I went downstairs and found him in the kitchen with two guns on the table and a bottle in Brother's hand.

We talked, and Brother told me to leave. Said that he had nightmares for a long time and that there was nothing I could do to help him. I kept telling him that I wanted to help him, and then suddenly he threw the bottle at me. That wasn't the end, though. He... he..." Al stopped.

"What did he do, Al?" Hughes whispered.

"He grabbed me off the floor and threw me through the kitchen table, face down. He slammed his right elbow on my back..." Al stopped for a moment to breathe in deeply, his body shaking from the memory of the incident. Hughes hugged him tighter, taking care to not cause more injuries. Despite his gentle nature, Hughes was still a super-soldier of the United States Military, and as such, possessed superhuman speed and strength that was not possible by normal people.

"What happened after that?"

"He... he grabbed me and threw me through the wall of the kitchen into the living room. He then slammed me through the front wall out into the front yard." Alphonse sobbed into Hughes jacket.

"And after that, he shot the house up as he walked away?"

Al nodded.

"Is there anything else? Please, you can trust me." Hughes said, gently rubbing Al's back.

"Before he drove off, Edward kneeled down and told me that if I ever told anyone about it, he'd come back and kill me, and then he'd destroy Amestris. Hughes, I've never felt so scared before in my life. Please, don't tell him I said anything." Al cried. At the moment, Hughes was very angry on the inside. How dare Admiral Elric beat his brother like that! How dare he threaten his own kin with death!

_But, then again, he's not normal. If Edward remembers the T-I55, who knows what else he's capable of doing._

There was something about Al's story, though, that didn't add up. Bradley said only about a beer bottle smashed across Al's head and the house being shot up. He never mentioned anything about Edward tossing his Brother like a rag doll.

"Al, I need you to do something for me."

"What's that?"

"I need you to take your shirt off, for me. I want to see your injuries." Hughes said.

"Hughes, I..." Al didn't want to feel any more embarrassed about the whole situation than he already did.

"Please. Let me see them." Hughes said softly. With trembling hands, Al slowly took off his upper shirt. Hughes sucked in a breath. There were several bruises on Al's muscular torso. Nowhere near as muscular as Edward, and his bruises were practically nonexistent compared to the Fleet Admiral, but the evidence was very clear of physical abuse at the hands of Edward Elric. Gently running the tips of his fingers across the bruises, Al sucked in his breath at the touch.

Hughes looked at Al's back and saw a nasty purple splotch on the center of his back, right where Edward planted his right elbow. Hughes then did something strange: he removed Al's bandage from his face. Although the bleeding had stopped, the cuts were still an angry red.

"These cuts will turn to scars, but they'll never go away." Hughes sighed sadly as he helped Al put on his shirt.

"Why did you want to see them?"

"To see the extent of the damage my superior caused you. Now, what I am about to tell you is the truth. I have seen what your brother is capable of doing, and you won't like this, but this is the truth: you got off very lucky."

Al's eyes went wide.

"I'm serious. They should be hosing out your remains from the house you guys stayed at last night, but instead you're here with a few cuts and bruises. Remember that." Hughes said, getting on his feet and heading to the door.

"Oh, one last question. You said you didn't want Edward to get in trouble. Is that with the officers on my ship, or with Mustang and his group?" Hughes asked. Al didn't answer.

"Are you thinking that Mustang might use this incident to declare a strike against Edward?" Hughes asked.

"Well, he might do that."

"To be honest, if he did that... Look, your alchemy is pretty amazing stuff. But on military grounds, you don't stand a chance against us. If Mustang is planning a war, convince him to stand down. Otherwise, your brother's threat to destroy Amestris will become a very clear reality. Believe me, he'll do it. I've seen him destroy whole countries before, and he'll do the same thing to Amestris." Hughes said, leaving the room.

* * *

August 11th, 1917

Outskirts, Central City

A lone U.S. Humvee roared down the road leading out of Central City. Once it got far enough, it pulled off from the road into the brush. Hughes phoned up his superior.

"XO Bradley, its Hughes. Just got done talking to Alphonse."

"_What'd he have to say?_"

"Mustang failed to mention a few important things. Edward did more than smash a bottle over Al's head and shoot the house up. Edward brutally assaulted his younger brother-"

"_How?_"

"Tossed him through a kitchen table, and then through two walls into the front yard. Even went so far as to threaten to kill him and that he would ensure the destruction of Amestris."

"_Damn. This is getting worse. Well, we got Al's side of the story. We'll be meeting with Fuhrer Mustang tonight at Madame Christmas's. It's a bar in the city. Let's get his side of the story._"

"Yes sir. Sir, I think we might need to establish protection for Alphonse. He took a great risk in sharing this information to us, especially since Admiral Elric threatened him. And we all know what happens to people Edward threatens with death."

"_Yes, we know. I'll think about it. But be careful, Hughes. We should assume that Edward's listening in on us right now._"

"Assume? Hell, he is." Hughes laughed darkly.

* * *

August 11th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

Edward shut the radio off after hearing the discussion between his XO and Ops officer.

_Even my own brother is terrified of me. I never should've left Pearl Harbor._ Edward thought to himself. He walked away from the wall, where he was attempting to decode Mustang's notes, and walked over to his safe, yanking out his XM 250 sniper rifle. Sliding back the action to see that it was loaded, and satisfied that it was, he sat down on his chair, his head in his hands.

_Congratulations, Admiral Elric. You're just fucking things up even more. You're more than capable of killing your brother right now. So what are you waiting for? Go ahead and do it._ The voice in Edward's heard returned. At this point, Edward had enough. He grabbed the rifle, put the barrel on his chest and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

August 11th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

(Several hours later...)

"Are you sure about this, sir?" Riza asked.

"Not really. But the sooner we get this over with, the better." Mustang sighed. Currently, the two were waiting for Bradley to arrive. They were down in South end of Central City, waiting for the Humvee to arrive.

"Well, if he gives us any trouble, I got snipers in the adjacent buildings and troops on standby to bust us out if we need them." Riza reminded her husband as she slid another pistol into her belt.

_But what good are extra troops when your possible enemy can blow up a mountain twice the size of Ft. Briggs from the bottom of Aerugo? Just face it, Mustang, even with the State Alchemists, you're no match for Edward._ Mustang thought to himself as he saw the Humvee pull up.

"Would you lead us to Madame Christmas bar? I'm afraid I don't know where it is." Bradley called out.

* * *

August 12th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

Commander Bradley, Lieutenant Commander Hughes, Lieutenant Commander Comstock and Lieutenant Kimmler sat around the various chairs and sofas in the Admiral's quarters. Edward was reading the report from Bradley's meeting with Fuhrer Mustang the previous evening.

"Sounds like you guys were drunk." Edward surmised, sipping his coffee.

"We all were. Well, we were getting a buzz. Mustang was pretty plastered. But he wasn't lying, I can promise you that." Bradley sighed.

"Well, it doesn't matter. It's not like it's our business." Edward replied, putting the pad away.

"Admiral, I don't think you fully understand what we just uncovered. Mustang had the previous Fuhrer of Amestris, Fuhrer Grumman, poisoned over time so he could reach that rank. And also so he could marry Riza Hawkeye." Bradley stood up. Edward didn't reply as he lit a cigarette. He then took apart his Desert Eagle and began to clean it.

"Start over from the beginning. I wanna hear all of it." Edward ordered.

* * *

**Thought I'd leave it at this cliffhanger. Next chapter will mostly be in flashbacks between Edward discussing last nights with Bradley, and Bradley having the drink with Mustang. Please review!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Next chapter of my story. Thanks to those who have reviewed my story recently, it means a lot. I really appreciate them. Hope you like this chapter, it'll reveal a little bit more of Edward's character, plus a surprise at the end that will change things even more for everyone in Amestris. Enjoy! And keep sending those reviews!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 12

August 11th, 1917

Madame Christmas Brothel &amp; Bar

Central City, Amestris

"_This the place?" Bradley asked as he parked the Humvee._

"_Yes, this is it."_

"_Okay. I brought a few extra guys with me." Bradley said as Kimmler, Comstock and Hughes got out. Mustang stared directly at Envy, anger in his dark eyes._

"_Are we gonna have a problem?" Bradley growled, putting his right hand on Comstock's shoulder._

"_No. No problem at all." Mustang replied. He still wanted to torch the Fleet CAG, but realizing that the Americans standing in front of him were armed with .50 Cal Desert Eagle handguns, decided against it._

"_Okay. Shall we?" Bradley gestured to the door._

* * *

_(Several minutes later...)_

"_Okay boys, pay up!" Envy cackled as he put the pool stick away. Havoc and Falman grumbled as they paid a very hefty sum of money to Envy and Hughes, the two Americans having beaten the two Amestrians in 8 games of pool. Every. Single. One._

"_Thank you very much, your donations are greatly appreciated." Hughes smirked, a cigar in his left hand while he stashed all the cenz in his back pocket with his right hand. The two then returned to the bar counter._

"_Where'd you two learn to play pool like that?" Riza asked._

"_When you're at sea for a long voyage, you learn many different skills. Pool is one of them." Envy said, drinking some beer._

"_So, Mustang, what happened last night? Between Edward and everyone in the cabin?" Bradley asked._

"_Well, before we talk about that, I just... I just wanna know about Edward. What happened to him in your world that made him, well, made him change? He's a very different person now."_

"_Well, a lot of stuff has happened to him. I think a better question would be what hasn't happened to him. That would be a much shorter list." Bradley replied._

"_Commander, tell him about the time when we found that civilian cargo fleet carrying Russian weapons and vehicles. Tell him that story." Kimmler said with a grin. Despite himself, Bradley couldn't help but grin at that._

"_What happened?" Mustang asked._

"_Cape Town, South Africa. We find this fleet of Russian cargo ships heading to port. Nowhere near close to Russia. Keep in mind, this is during the war, so we're tracking Russian movement to gain an advantage over them. We found this cargo fleet. CSG-21 was in the area at the time, so we intercept them. We board the ships, turns out they were trying to sell Cold War-era weapons and vehicles to revolutionaries in Africa. Would've made a pretty penny on the black market. Thought they could escape our radar by going to the very bottom of the country._

_Now, those ships had plenty of parts we could use. Engines, propellers, radar, radios, stuff like that. Plus, we couldn't let the equipment get sold, Russians would have more money to spend to fuel their war effort. So, we turned our weapons on the fleet and let loose." Bradley surmised._

"_You opened fire on a fleet of cargo ships. Were they armed?" Mustang asked. Bradley's look said it all._

"_They weren't. You fired on a group of unarmed ships? Killed all those people?" Mustang asked._

"_No, not all of them. Edward had gotten their passenger manifest and decided who was valuable and who wasn't. We met resistance on the lead ship. Those he had selected, refused to go. The Russians had brought many families and civilians with them, hoping that would protect them. So, the order came down, to line up the families of the selectees who refused to go and shoot them." Bradley said with a light smile. Mustang just listened in horror._

"_8 families. We lined them up against the bulkhead and blasted their brains against the steel. After that, we had no problem getting what we wanted. After we acquired the personnel and equipment, we sent the ships to the bottom. Russians never got their money, and the revolutionaries never got their weapons."_

_Mustang was pretty horrified at that._

"_So, is that how he won the war? By shooting civilians?" Hawkeye asked. Despite her calm nature, she too was stunned, although she hid it better than her husband._

"_Nope. We got plenty of military targets as well. Most of it was enemy forces, but there was one time he wasted his own fleet once." Hughes replied._

"_Wait, what?" Mustang asked dumbly._

"_Okay. During the final years of World War III, the United States and her allies launched a massive invasion against Russia. CSG-21 had to be pulled away from the Pacific Campaign to spearhead the main assault against Norway, one of the countries we marked to invade. Two additional carrier groups went with us to protect 213 transport ships. Edward ordered the ship captains to open fire with bio-chemical weapons on the Russian defenders. CSG-21 did so without a second thought. The other carrier groups, however, refused the order." Bradley summed up._

"_Two military teams disobeyed their commanding officer?" Mustang asked._

"_Yep. So, Edward gave the order again. They still refused, saying that bio-chemical weapons shouldn't be used. So, while CSG-21 bombarded the shoreline, Edward turned the USS America around and blasted the other American ships, sunk all of them. Official records state they were sunk by Russian submarines, but we all know what really happened. Ain't that right, fellas?" Bradley said loudly._

"_Damn right!" Envy yelled, pounding back another shot. Bradley chuckled at seeing his CAG lighten up. He turned to see Mustang whispering something to Hawkeye. His superior hearing enabled him to pick it up very well. And he didn't like it one bit. A quick glance at the bar told him the bartender wasn't there. Thanks to his superhuman speed, he dropped a substance in Mustang's drink and returned to his bottle before Mustang grabbed his glass._

"_So, Mustang, I want to know about what happened last night. What caused my CO to lose it and almost kill you?" Bradley asked._

"_It has to do with his nightmare. Something about a MiG, and someone named Steve. Something about trying to get him back to the fleet, or something. Does that ring a bell?" Mustang asked, drinking some beer. He noticed that the four American officers' moods had changed from having a good time to very serious. Bradley and Envy changed places so Envy was sitting next to Mustang._

"_What was that about a MiG and a man named Steve?" he asked darkly, his eyes changing into the Thousand-Yard Stare. At the moment, he was living a bloody, past memory._

"_Just, what he yelled out in his nightmare. Okay, for starters. What's a MiG?" Mustang asked._

"_MiG. That is an American-Western term for Russian aircraft built by the Russian Aircraft Corporation MiG. It originally was Mikoyan-and-Gurevich Design Bureau. The name changed over time to RAC-MiG. But the term MiG still applies to Russian aircraft. Especially military._

_The pilot, his name was Steve Darwins. He was a good pilot. Nowhere near as good as Edward and I, but good enough. Very likeable. Always had a joke to say, always comfortable to be around with. Everyone liked him. He and Edward became pretty good friends, despite the rank difference. During the Battle of Moscow, Edward took to the skies in his plane. Steve was his wingman. He led a group of fighters to draw of Russian MiG interceptors while I led a large group of A-10's to destroy Russian armor before they got into the city. Unfortunately, the Russians had more fighters then we thought. That was one of the worst dogfights of my life, and I've been through a lot." Envy sighed, downing some more liquor._

"_Dogfight?" Hawkeye asked._

"_An aerial battle between airplanes at close range. During a dogfight, the goal is to shoot down the enemy plane before he or she shoots you down. During World War III, we had better planes, better weapons, and better pilots. But while we had quality, they had quantity. They couldn't keep up in terms of building a better machine, so they took what they had and churned out as many as they could. Sheep to the slaughter in my opinion._

_During that battle, though, Steve bought it. I wasn't there to witness it, but I could hear it over the radio. From the sounds of it, his canopy was punctured by a stray bullet and sliced his throat. To this day, two things have haunted me the most from that battle: the sound of Steve chocking to death on his own blood... and the sound of Edward screaming his lungs out. I made the decision to jam our radios so no-one would hear that. Would only raise the morale of the Russians if they found out the great 'Iron Eagle of America' had been mentally shot down. Hell, I had to escort the poor bastard back to the ship under the guise of repairs to his plane."_

"_Why'd you take him back?" Roy asked._

"_At that point of the war, Edward had lost many friends. Everyone did. I think, I think losing Steve just broke him. Took a while for him to get over his death, which if you ask me, I don't think he ever recovered._

_Concerning his nightmares, he's had them for a long time. We have two rules on the ship: Don't disobey the Admiral's orders, and don't wake him up during a nightmare. If you do, he'll freak out and kill you without hesitation."_

_Mustang nursed his drink, contemplating everything that he had listened. He had a feeling this was only the tip of the iceberg, and it wouldn't be a good._

* * *

August 12th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

"Okay. I have no problem of my past missions being told to Mustang, as long as he gets the message that we're not to be fucked with. How many did you tell him, by the way?" Edward asked.

"Plenty of them. I think he got the message." Kimmler smiled.

"Okay. About him actually poisoning the previous Fuhrer, though..."

* * *

_August 11__th__, 1917_

_Madame Christmas Brothel &amp; Bar_

_Central City, Amestris_

_At this point, the bar had gotten pretty rowdy. Every Amestrian inside was getting very drunk, including the normally stoic Hawkeye and Falman. The Americans, being super-soldiers, had downed twice the amount of booze and alcohol as everyone else, and were only receiving a little buzz. Too bad everyone else was plastered to notice. Kimmler, Hughes and Envy were currently at the pool table, scamming drunk customers out of their money by winning game. After game. After game. Bradley sat at the counter with a plastered Mustang._

"_Hey, Fuhrer, I want to know something. How did you become the Fuhrer of Amestris? Were you sworn in after the demise of Fuhrer Bradley?" the Navy officer asked._

"_Oh, that. Well, you see, it went like this..." Mustang started with a sloppy grin._

* * *

August 12th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

"Damn. That's cold. Poisoned the Fuhrer because he was enforcing regulations about the use of Alchemy in everyday situations. And because he wanted to get married to Riza Hawkeye. Well, this isn't the first governmental assassination we've been dealt with. What I want to know is, why is it our problem?" Edward asked.

"Just thought you wanted to know." Bradley said, gently holding his left ribcage.

"Seriously, what the hell happened to you? You're a super-soldier, you shouldn't look like a Mustang interceptor crashed into you on the flight deck."

* * *

_August 11__th__, 1917_

_Madame Christmas Brothel &amp; Bar_

_Central City, Amestris_

_It was now late in the evening. Almost everyone had gone home, or had stumbled home. Some had been arrested for disorderly conduct, and some had to take a taxi ride home. For the moment, it was just Mustang and Bradley. Hawkeye had gone home earlier, after making Bradley promise that he would escort Mustang home safely. After learning that 'home' was the Central Command Center, the officer complied. Downing his last bottle,_

"_Hey Fuhrer, mind if we go for a walk?" Bradley asked._

"_Sure." Mustang slurred. Despite that he was drunk, he still possessed enough motor functions to walk out the door and into the night street. The streets were very empty. Hardly anyone was walking the sidewalks. And aside from the random Mustang II USA Navy interceptor roaring overhead, all was quiet. Perfect conditions for what Bradley had planned, as he led Mustang into a dark alley. Once they were alone, Bradley turned around, grabbed Mustang and slammed him into the wall._

"_What the hell?" he cried out. Bradley said nothing as fists and knees slammed into his body, leaving the Fuhrer with very nasty bruises. Mustang tried to catch Bradley with a right hook, but he was too drunk and too slow for the war veteran. Bradley caught Mustang's right hand and flipped him over onto his back. He then grabbed Mustang by his left leg and began to slam him into the wall, over and over again. Dropping the Fuhrer to the ground, he grabbed the front of Roy's jacket and slammed fist after fist after iron super-soldier fist into his face, cutting him up badly. He then picked him up and slammed him against the wall._

"_Now listen here, Mustang, and listen carefully. You're gonna tell that gorgeous wife of yours, to pull her troops out of the East. What happened here, you are not gonna say a word of this to anyone. You are not gonna have installations at the border spying on my fleet. If you fail to do any of these items, we're gonna bomb your country back to the Stone Age, and we'll slaughter your people, down to the last kid. If you think we don't have the stones, go ahead and try us. And remember what I said, we're watching you." Bradley half snarled, half growled. A final blow to the Fuhrer's head knocked Mustang out. Staring down at the unconscious Flame Alchemist, Bradley whistled. Kimmler, Comstock and Hughes walked out of the shadows._

"_So, when we drop him off at his home, what's the story gonna be?" Envy asked, puffing a cigarette._

"_Drachman terrorists. He and I were ambushed. I managed to fight some off, but when I found him, he was like this." Bradley said._

"_Okay. But Riza's gonna notice that you're unharmed. She'll call your buff on that." Kimmler remarked._

"_Ok. Get the heavy chains and the pipes out of the back of the Humvee. Let's fix me up, then." Bradley said. Noticing the extreme reluctance of his officers,_

"_That's an order." He growled. Sighing, the three headed back to the bar. They came back with the aforementioned items: heavy chains and thick, heavy pipes. Once Bradley's arms were securely fastened behind his back, Envy slammed his pipe in Bradley's ribs. He wasn't fazed._

"_Really? That was pathetic."_

"_Fine, you asked for it." Envy replied, slamming his fist into his CO's chest. Even though King Bradley was a solid rock of a super-soldier, the blow still sent him flying a bit. The three soon ganged up on him, relentless in their blows._

* * *

August 12th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

"Hmm. And Riza actually bought it?" Edward questioned.

"Honestly, Admiral, that doesn't matter if she bought it or not." Bradley said.

"Alright. Go get yourself cleaned up. By the way, did you ever ask Mustang about Aerugo?" Edward asked.

"Jesus Christ, I fucking forgot." Bradley sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"We'll get him another time. You are all dismissed." Edward said, returning to his work. The four officers saluted and left the room. As they headed down the hallway,

"Did you guys see the sniper rifle in the corner?" Envy asked.

"Yes. Looked like it was thrown there. Probably out of frustration. Edward always keeps his weapons in his locker, he doesn't just leave them out in the open. Did you see the scorch marks on the end of the barrel?" Kimmler asked.

"Yes. That only happens if rounds are used against steel at point-blank range." Bradley said. The mood sobered immediately.

"Do you think he remembers?" Hughes asked.

"I don't know. I really don't know." Kimmler sighed.

"I have a question. Do you think we should tell him what we found last night?" Envy asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea, John." Hughes answered.

"Come on, he deserves to know the truth. Better to know the truth than live a lie, right King?" Envy asked.

"Damn, I hate it when you listen to me. Alright, go show it to him. God help us." Bradley sighed.

* * *

_August 11__th__, 1917_

_Central City Cemetery_

_Central City, Amestris_

"_So, wanna explain why we're here again?" Envy asked, scratching Riley's neck._

"_Alphonse said that my counterpart died here. I just wanna see the gravestone, that's all." Hughes said as he parked the Humvee._

"_Hmm. Okay, so the Admiral's younger brother, who has lived in Amestris for his whole life I might add, tells us some news that our superior officer didn't and we're gonna go snoop around the city. Great. I like it. Why don't we just start invading the country and find out everything about Amestris?" Envy said sarcastically._

"_John, that could very well be a real possibility. Edward ordering an invasion of Amestris. Al told me that Edward threatened to kill him and destroy Amestris. And you said so yourself that he was planning an invasion. And look at everything that he's done so far: held his friends and family hostage at gunpoint, snuck a team of Navy SEALs in and shot up the city, nonstop CAP over Amestris, missile strikes against bases at the border of Amestris. Hell, an invasion is the last thing left." Hughes reminded. John simply growled as he got out, unclipping the leash and letting the large Siberian husky run loose._

_He meant it as a joke, but he knew as well that an invasion could be possible. He, along with every other pilot in the fleet, now lived under the threat that Edward would give future orders to fire missiles into major cities and military installations in and around Amestris, a pre-emptive strike before the main invasion. Would they do it? Absolutely. Was it right? No. But if those were their orders, they'd follow them all the way. Envy put those thoughts deep into his mind as he followed his friends into the dark graveyard. Using flashlights, they eventually found their destination._

"_Hmm. Well, here we are." Bradley said, staring down at the stone._

"_Yeah, here we are." Hughes said. While everyone stared at the gravestone, Riley began sniffing the air and ran off. John walked after him. Meanwhile, Hughes continued to stare. He had no idea what to think of this. At least _he_was still alive. But here he was, standing over the grave of his world-counterpart. It was... odd, to say the least. But words just couldn't describe-_

"_BRADLEY! HUGHES! KIMMLER! GET OVER HERE!" came John's loud screaming. The three officers quickly ran over to where the Fleet CAG was standing, their Desert Eagles' out._

"_What's wrong? We under attack?" Bradley asked._

"_No, worse." Envy said, pointing his flashlight at the ground. Everyone's eyes went wide, and they were all thinking the same thing: __Forget the invasion. Edward's gonna declare nuclear warfare if he ever discovers this._

* * *

August 12th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group 21

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

Edward stared down at the granite object on his desk, its black words staring back at him, as if they were mocking the Admiral.

_Here lies Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and 'Hero of the People.'_

_November 16__th__, 1899-April 19__th__, 1917_

_I missed my own funeral by only two weeks. Those fucking bastards kept it a secret from me the whole damn time I've been here. I save their fucking lives, save the whole goddamn country from being turned into a Philosopher Stone and they give me a GODDAMN GRAVESTONE AS THANKS?!_ Were Edward's angry thoughts. At that moment, he gave very serious consideration of launching all 40 nuclear ICBM's onboard the USS America toward Amestris.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Lieutenant Commander. You're dismissed." Edward said curtly. Realizing he wasn't gonna get anywhere, Envy saluted his CO and friend and left the room. Edward simply sat there, wondering what to do next.

He pulled out his dog tags and stared at the key that was on the chain. It was the key that gave him the ability to over-ride any lockout that could be erected that would prevent the ship's nukes from being launched. Edward gently played with the key in his hands, wondering what his next move should be.

* * *

**I have question/request for my readers: if anyone knows or is a good artist, I would like some artwork done for my story. Of the characters, places, ships, scenes, etc. If anyone is interested, or if you know someone who is a very proficient artist who could whip up some very good artwork, please PM me, I would really like that. Peace!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Here's the next chapter. This one will be the turning point in the story, after this one it'll start to pick up more speed. Read and review, please!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 13

August 12th, 1917

CFX-150 USS America

New Pearl Harbor

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

Edward sat in his chair, wondering what the hell he should do. Should he invade? That was definitely possible. Long-range railgun strikes, missile bombardments and air strikes to soften up their defenses, and send his troops in. That was possible, but was it right?

_Odd. You've always been against America's so-called 'Foreign Policy' of being the police of the world. You've always said to keep her military at home to protect the borders, and yet here you are, imposing your will on another country by military force. Isn't that completely contradictory against your beliefs?_ The voice came back. Edward sat there in silence.

_And besides, while your super-soldiers are far superior to anything Amestris could possibly produce, they've never fought State Alchemists before. With all those Philosopher Stones in Aerugo, they could very well wipe out any invasion you'd create. And you're tired of dumping bodies over your ship, aren't you? And also, you have limited supplies. Once you run out, what are you gonna do?_

_And while I'm on a roll, a victory over Amestris is more than certain should you choose to attack. But the casualties might not be worth it. Not to mention it would put a drain on your supplies. Again, once they're gone, what are you gonna do?_

Edward hated the voice in the back of his head, but he had to admit, his subconscious had a point. Edward picked up a pad and ran through the fleet again.

_Enough warships to destroy anything we could encounter. Enough troops to invade and occupy any country we see fit. Enough supplies to last us for quite a while. But even so, they'll run out eventually. I need my brother and my dad's help if I'm to return this fleet home. If I have to start executing my own people because they'll start mutinying against me... Jesus Christ, this is all my fault. I never should've left Pearl Harbor. I can't afford to lose people right now. Way too many flags dropped off at homes. Way. Too. Many. Bodies. Dumped. Over. Board._ Edward buried his head in his hands. After a minute, he finally had an idea of what he was going to do. Picking up the Comm,

"Flight Officer, its Admiral Elric. Send this message to the fleet, all air vehicles are to return to base immediately. Everyone's grounded until further notice."

"_Did I hear you correctly, sir?_"

"Get it done." Edward snarled. Switching channels,

"Bradley, its Elric. I want you to pull all our forces out of Aerugo. We don't need them there." Before Bradley could respond, Edward switched to another channel.

"Lieutenant Granderson, its Elric. How's Ishval going?"

"_Just a few more districts, and we'll be finished._"

"Okay. Get ready to leave as soon as you finish. Once Ishval is complete, pack up everything and return to base."

"_Understood._"

_Time to set everything in order._ Edward thought to himself. He realized that there were two things he needed to do. He took a deep breath.

_If I can handle the Homunculi and then 15 years in the US military, I can surely handle this._

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Central Command Center

Central City, Amestris

Fuhrer Roy Mustang was tired. Everyone could see that. It wasn't from the beating he received at the hands of Commander Bradley the night before. Several Xingese doctors and Amestrian alchemists that had become skilled in Alkahestry were able to patch him up _very_ quickly, at his wife's insistence. No, it wasn't the beating that had tired him. It wasn't a physical tiredness, it was mental. The war with Drachma wasn't going good, and he needed a game plan to beat them. It also didn't help that he had been getting calls from Creta and a few other smaller countries to the west asking about Edward's Fleet. And then there was the Fleet itself, parked outside of Aerugo. Mustang was confident his State Alchemists could stop any possible invasion, especially with all the Philosopher Stones he had, but he didn't have anything to stop an air assault.

_Hughes, I sure as hell wish you were here. I need you now more than ever._ He thought to himself as he vaguely listened to the report concerning how the last of the Ishvalan districts were nearing completion. He knew that being the Fuhrer wouldn't be easy. But goddammit, ever since Edward Elric had come back, the pressure just seemed to get harder and harder. It didn't help that the sounds of American fighter jets constantly roared in the skies above.

_That's odd. Judging by their sound, they seem to be heading away from us..._ Mustang thought. Excusing himself from the table, he walked over to the window and saw several F-85 Mustang II jets head south at unbelievable speeds.

"What's that boy up to now?" he wondered to himself.

"What's who up to now?" Scar asked.

"Edward. This is the second time his planes have flown south. But... Never mind about that. You were saying about Ishval?" Mustang asked.

"You may not want to hear this, but Edward's troops have been nothing short of a blessing. They've accomplished in only a few short months what it's taken Amestris two years to do. I do understand you've had to divert resources to Ft. Briggs, I'm not saying you're wrong in defending your country."

"But we could've brought in supplies from Xing. Ling Yao would've been happy to do that. But with rumors and threats about terrorist attacks on the railroads, he's being very hesitant. I can't say I blame him." General Howe remarked. The main doors opened up.

"Captain Ross, you have news?" General 'Hawkeye' Mustang asked.

"Yes. General Armstrong just arrived at the train station. Also..." she paused.

"Yes?" Roy asked.

"Fleet Admiral Elric says he'll be here in a few minutes. Says he wants to talk to you in private, Fuhrer. Didn't say anything else."

The sound of silence deafened everyone.

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Central City Hospital

Central City, Amestris

Edward waited until Al's room was empty. All he really had to do was activate the cloak on his Exo-skeleton and prop himself on the ceiling. _This is nothing. I remember when I had to wait 5 days for a Russian general to make the wrong turn in Berlin. Poor bastard. But that's behind me now._

Once Edward saw Winry and May Chang leave the room and walk down the hallway, Edward double checked to make sure he wouldn't drop on anyone. With the coast clear, Edward gently landed on the floor, not an easy feat for a super-soldier, and walked into Al's room while he de-activated the cloak.

"Hey Brother." Al said, clearly stunned by his appearance.

"Hey Al." Edward said. _Hughes was right, he is terrified of me. That's why I have to do this._ Edward thought to himself as he breathed in deeply.

"Al... look, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll be straight and honest: I'm sorry. For, for all the hell I've put you through. Putting you in a suit of armor, for leaving you for 15 years, for holding you at gunpoint, for beating the shit outta you and putting you in the hospital, for a lot of things. I... I'm sorry Al." Edward apologized, his voice starting to crack. Edward was very surprised when he felt his brother hug him.

"Al?"

"I'm still a little scared of you, but that doesn't change the fact that you're my brother, and I love you. Nothings gonna change that." Al said. Edward slowly embraced his younger brother. For a brief moment, the two stayed like that. Until the Fleet Admiral uttered the following words:

"I'm leaving."

"What do you mean?" Al asked. Edward walked over to the window and stared at the sky, watching his jets scream south.

"Once my troops are done with Ishval, I'm packing everything up. I'm done. I'm leaving Amestris for good. I'll find another way to get home." Edward said. His shoulders slightly slumped, but there was determination in his voice.

"What-Brother you just got back!"

"Yeah, I have, and I've done nothing but royally fuck things up ever since I got here! Had my soldiers put a flamethrower to your back, had fully armed warplanes fly over the city nonstop, just waiting for me to give the order to drop their bombs! I fucking threw you through two walls and a table and put you in the hospital! How can you still want me here after I've done all that?" Edward asked. Al couldn't reply. Honestly, he _hated_ that his brother had changed so much, had done all that. But that didn't mean he wanted him gone.

"I'm sorry, Al. I don't belong here anymore." Edward sighed.

"But... even if you did leave Amestris, how would you get home? Dad and I still haven't figured out the circle." Al said, hoping that would keep his brother to stay.

"It's a big world, Al. There's bound to be other countries that have alchemy." Edward replied. Al's heart was crushed; his brother was really leaving.

"But, how long can you survive out there?"

"Trust me, Alphonse. My men and women are very smart. Besides, I got enough supplies in my fleet to last us for some years. We'll survive." Edward said very confidently. Edward gripped his brother in a tight hug for what they felt would be the last time.

"I love you, Al." Edward whispered. Letting go of his brother, he walked out of the room without looking back. Alphonse sat on the bed and cried. Even when Winry and May came back and comforted him, it didn't change that He. Felt. _Alone_.

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Central Command Center

Central City, Amestris

An Arctic-camouflage US Army Humvee stood out against the other dull, almost bland Amestrian cars parked in the lot, not to mention it was much larger than the other vehicles. And heavily armed as well, with the TOW-missile launcher/M134 Minigun combo turret mounted on the top.

_Do all his vehicles come in a snow camouflage? _General Armstrong thought as she eyed the military vehicle. She stopped when she saw the driver walk out. Admiral Edward Elric.

_Oh God, no-one needs another copy of my brother. Even if his body is more_..._ well-toned and defined than Captain Buccaneer, which is saying something._ Armstrong mentally sighed as she eyed Edward's shirtless torso.

"General Armstrong."

"Admiral Elric."

The two continued into the large building.

"So, what brings you to Central?" Edward asked.

"Wanted to talk the Fuhrer personally about sending additional troops and supplies to Ft. Briggs."

"What, Mustang slashed the budget of the outer defenses or something?" Edward asked.

"No. But the Drachmans are getting more emboldened in their attacks. No offense, but I believe part of that has to do with you."

"Is that because one of my pilots destroyed an entire attacking army by himself?" Edward asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I believe since that incident, the Drachmans have started sending a larger armies to try to take the border."

"Sheep to the slaughter, eh?" Edward replied.

"Not exactly. My men are as tough as they come, but that doesn't change that the fact that the Drachmans have the advantage in numbers. Are we slaughtering them? Yes. But something needs to change if we're to win this war. What do you think?" Olivia asked.

"Honest opinion? You've gotten too comfortable in your fort. You've got the troops. You've got the experience. You've got State Alchemists, for Christ's sake. Send them to the front and go on the offence. Do to Drachma what you did to Ishval. Two years you've been on the defense, and all that's doing is showing the Drachmans that you are either unwilling or unable to lash back. They're just gonna keep sending troops to attack Briggs until either they take it, or they run out of men. From a military commander to another, it's time to go on the offensive." Edward stated. Olivia glanced at Edward with slightly raised eyebrows. _Yeah. He's definitely changed. Two years ago, he would've shit his pants at the thought of saying all that to me. Now, I wonder if there's anything that can truly scare him._

"You wanted my opinion, you got it, General." Edward replied.

"Can I ask another question?"

"Sure."

"Why'd you come in here shirtless? I hope my sorry excuse of a brother hasn't been rubbing off on you."

"I came in here shirtless to show everyone that I wasn't carrying any weapons. Well, there's this." Edward had a sinister grin as he lifted his right arm to reveal the blade on his elbow.

"That's the prosthetic arm you received three months ago on your ship, right?"

"Yeah. I wear it off and on with the other arm. Still getting used to it."

"Used to it?"

"Well, first it was Amestrian Automail for around two years or so. Then I had my original arm back for about 4 years. Then I lose it and get stuck with American prosthetics for 11 years. All of them were much less advanced than this."

Olivia was half-tempted to ask how Edward lost his flesh-and-blood arm, but decided against it. One look at Edward Elric would be enough to tell that he was a very well-grizzled war veteran. His jet-black tattoos, his _bulging_ muscles, his purple-and-blue bruises, his angry red scars, his evil-looking prosthetic arm. Most of all, his eyes, the color of gold. They told of a man who had seen _way_ too much.

"So, what brings you here?" Armstrong asked.

"Wanted to tell the Fuhrer a few things." Edward replied as they reached the Fuhrer's main conference room.

"I'm sorry sir, the Fuhrer is busy at the moment." The Amestrian soldier said.

"Tell him that Admiral Elric and General Armstrong are here to see him." Olivia responded in a cold, strong voice.

"He'll see you General, but not the Admiral. In a few minutes, he's busy wrapping up a meeting."

"You have two choices, soldier. Let us in right now, or the janitors will be busy hosing out your remains from the hallway. It's your choice." Edward growled in an almost demonic voice. It had the desired affect: he opened the door immediately.

_Damn. This guy must have some incredibly large stones hanging in his pants. No, more like boulders down there. I've got to find some way to get him at Briggs. With the two of us, the Drachmans won't stand a chance._ Olivia thought with some admiration.

The Amestrian guard was lying. There was no meeting. At least not yet. Everyone had gone out to lunch, leaving the two military officers alone. Edward walked over to a large board that had some tactical plans drawn out concerning the Briggs Mtn. Range. After only a few seconds staring at it,

"You people are fucking idiots." Edward muttered.

"Excuse me?" the female general asked. Olivia was busy looking at some maps.

"Look. Mustang is planning on waging a war of attrition. Bleed the Drachmans dry. Now, that has its advantages, in that no one has ever crossed the steep-as-hell mountains that we call the Briggs Mountain Range. The problem is, we have no idea how large the country of Drachma is, nor an indication of the size or strength of their military. We don't even know what their military consists of. Do they have aircraft, State Alchemists, Special Forces, a blue-water navy, long-range cannons, stuff like that." Edward said casually.

"You sure seem to know your stuff about military forces."

"Been serving the United States Armed Forces for over 12 years. Started as a private in the Marines. Now I'm the Fleet Admiral of the Navy and the commander of the entire military. Trust me, I know my shit." Edward said with a smirk as he sat down, propping his legs up on the table.

"I don't know how the United States Navy promotes their people, you seem awfully young for someone with a very high rank. Did you get to the top through hard work, or did you cheat like Mustang?" Olivia asked slyly as she sat close to the Admiral. Edward responded by giving Armstrong a very hard glare that made the Ice Queen slightly uncomfortable.

"Listen to me very carefully, General Armstrong. I didn't cheat my way to the top. Many officers in the Navy want to be the next Admiral, but they can't get past the rank of captain, if they even reach that. It takes a lot of work and you have to _really_ stand out for the brass to even consider promoting you to admiral. I was promoted because the military was getting a little desperate.

We were losing a lot of good men and women left and right. We had a lot of good officers, but we had our fair share of shitty ones. The military took notice of me, of my tactics and knowledge. Said I was the most educated officer in the _entire _military, that I was very articulate, shit like that. And according to them, I was also very out of the box, extremely unorthodox when it came to tactics and battle plans. After interviewing all the sailors and marines under my command, they promoted me to Fleet Admiral. That was over 10 years ago. Held that rank ever since. I didn't cheat. I never had aspirations to be an admiral, let alone the top dog of Fleet Admiral, but I accepted it nonetheless. That answer your question?"

Olivia didn't reply, instead she just let her blue eyes roam over Edward's bare torso. And she _really_ liked what she saw. Edward knew it, so he tightened his already heavily-chiseled abs, making them appear even _more_ defined then they already were. He still feigned ignorance, however.

"What?"

"It's just... to me, you don't look that much older than when I last saw you two years ago. You still look around 18, 19 years old. But I can tell that you've grown up a lot. It's in your mannerisms, your voice, and your eyes."

"Yeah, being stuck in a war will do that to you. By the way, I'm not sending troops up north. I'm leaving Amestris." Edward said bluntly as the door opened.

"Who's leaving Amestris?" Fuhrer Mustang asked, surprised to see Edward. Armstrong immediately stood up and saluted her superior, but Edward remained where he was.

"I am. I'm pulling all my troops back. And as soon as Ishval is completed, I'm pulling those guys out as well."

"Why?" Mustang asked rather dumbfounded. This was definitely unexpected. He couldn't help but wonder whether this was another trick by the Admiral.

"I've just fucked things up ever since I got here. I can't stay here anymore. I'll look at the surrounding countries, see if any of them will help. Amestris can't be the only country that uses alchemy."

Mustang didn't know what to say. Honestly, he was not expecting this. His former subordinate was leaving them.

"What brought this change about?" the Fuhrer asked. Edward sighed deeply.

"What I've been doing, it just goes against some of the beliefs that I've formed when I joined the US military. I do believe in having a very strong military to protect yourself, but I don't think any country should use their military to expand their reach on other countries and force their will upon them. Which is what I've been doing these past three months that I've been here. I've decided to try and fix all the wrongs I've done, and I feel that Amestris would be better off without me."

"That's not true, Edward. Because of you, Ishval is almost completely rebuilt-"

"I only rebuild Ishval to try to rebuild what level of trust we had left, Mustang, that's all. But I've had planes fly over the city almost nonstop since I've arrived, and I put a very sizeable force in Ishval very damn close to the East. Not to mention I almost put a hole in your chest back at the cabin, remember?" Edward asked.

"Yes, I remember. Edward, I'm not gonna lie. I don't like that you've changed so much. That you've been using your troops to try and scare us into submission, if that was your plan. But I don't want you to leave. Are you really gonna leave your home?" Mustang asked.

"Amestris isn't my home anymore. I'm sorry, but that's the truth." Edward said almost sadly. The room was somewhat silent on Edward's recent declaration to leave for good.

"Well, I guess I can't stop you from leaving."

"Sure you can. Just use all those Philosopher Stones in Aerugo to trap my fleet in. I'm pretty sure I could simply blast my way through, though." Edward smiled. Mustang went pale. Along with Hawkeye, Scar, and a few other top generals.

"Fuhrer, do you know what he's talking about?" Armstrong asked.

"How did you find out?" Mustang asked.

"My soldiers and pilots have been complaining about their thermal equipment being royally sodomized up the ass. Meaning, my equipment is reading the country to show millions of inhabitants, when I only had a few battalions of American troops in the capital city. I pulled them back to the fleet, by the way. My men noticed the trees were showing an enormously high heat signature, so they began hacking them down and revealed Philosopher Stones hidden inside. I'm not angry, but I just want to know what happened, that's all." Edward said plainly. Mustang was about to explain, but Edward's iPhone rang.

"Hold on, I need to take this. Yeah? What's up, Bradley... Okay... wait, what? Okay, you're sure the radar is working fine? Okay, what'd you do about it... sent John up... okay... Liore, okay... wait, what? Bradley, what exactly are you telling me? Yeah. Yeah, he's here. Along with a few generals and officers. You're sending a chopper? Okay, we'll be there. One more thing, Commander, you better not be pulling my leg." Edward warned as he hung up.

"Mustang, you can explain the Philosopher Stones on a later day. Bradley is sending a chopper to take us back to the ship, he says he's bringing something onboard that he wants you guys to see. Something he claims he found in Liore." Edward muttered.

"What's in Liore?" a familiar voice asked. It was Al. And he wasn't alone. Winry, May and Hohenheim were with him as well. No doubt to try to dissuade Edward from leaving.

"My First Officer claims they found something in Liore that he wants everyone to see." Edward said slowly.

"Does... does that mean you're staying?" Winry asked. Edward had noticed that Winry and Al were holding hands. He had a feeling the two were together. Honestly, it didn't bother him. He had stopped having romantic feelings for Winry a long time ago.

"I've already made up my mind, I'm leaving as soon as I'm done with Ishval." Edward said as a Chinook chopper hovered over the parking lot. No doubt to take the Humvee back to the fleet as well as bring Amestrian officials to the flagship.

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Chinook Chopper #411 [En route to USS America with Admiral Elric and Top Amestrian Government/Military Officials]

"So, how long have you two been together?" Edward asked. Al and Winry looked at each other.

"About eight months now. We... we wanted to tell you, but..." Al stopped.

"I know. I'm sorry. I really am sorry for how I've been acting these past three months. I know I shouldn't have been like that, should've treated everyone better." Ed sighed.

"So why are you leaving?" May asked.

"I'm been screwing everyone over ever since I got here. I'm just gonna make things worse if I stay. Besides, I need to look after my soldiers. Most of them haven't been home in months. The sooner I get them to their families, the better." Edward replied as the chopper touched down on the deck. Once everyone got out,

"Been a while since I've been here." Mustang sighed.

"Relax, I'm not gonna put a rifle to your back." Edward muttered as the elevator lowered to the hanger deck. Winry's eyes went wide.

"What is all this?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, you've never been down here. Hanger deck for my planes." Edward sighed. Commander Bradley, Lt. Commander Hughes and Lt. Commander Comstock walked up.

"Commander, what's so important that you brought us all here?" Edward asked. Bradley quickly winked at Mustang as if to remind him of what happened last night.

"Radar showed us some flying objects in Liore. Thought something was wrong, but the equipment checks out. Sent Comstock to see what the problem was. We found this. Bring it down." He spoke in a com-set.

The rear elevator lowered to the deck. A badly shot-up, metal frame biplane rested on the deck.

"Been a while since I've seen a P-40 Warhawk outside of a museum or a private owner." Edward sighed. Everyone stared at the wreck.

"What's that?" Scar asked.

"It's a Drachman biplane. I found 15 of these shooting up Liore. This was the only one we could salvage, the rest are in pieces scattered around the city." Envy said.

"Where's the pilot?" Edward asked.

"Dead." Was the short reply.

"How do you know it's Drachman?" Alphonse asked.

"See the markings on the wings? They look the same to the flags the Drachman army carried when they attacked Ft. Briggs. Am I right?" Envy asked.

"Yes, you're right. Are you the pilot that destroyed that army?" she asked.

"Describe the plane you saw."

"Large, had a diamond shape to it, colored in white, black and light blue. Looks like it could float in the air."

"That was me." Envy replied.

"Wait, this plane came from Drachma?" Mustang asked. The implications were horrifying: Drachma now had an ability that Amestris couldn't outright match. They now a new advantage: They had air power. They could easily fly over Ft. Briggs and attack any town they saw fit.

"How'd they get past Ft. Briggs?" Olivia asked.

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that the Drachmans have a weapon you guys can't easily repel. So, what are your orders, Admiral?" John asked, believing Edward would fight back.

"It's not our fight, Lieutenant Commander. We're not going." Edward replied.

"You're really not gonna fight? Amestris is your home, the Drachmans have proved they can bypass their outer defenses and hit any place they want to, and you still won't fight?" Bradley asked.

"Nine months, Commander. It's only been _nine_ months, since the end of World War III. I haven't gotten over it. And neither have you, or Hughes, or Comstock, or Kimmler, nor every man and women in this fleet. Do you really want to send those boys and girls back into another war? Never mind that our possible enemy is inferior to us, do you really want to break their minds even more?" Edward asked, his voice slightly trembling. Bradley couldn't reply to that. None of them could. Edward was right: World War III was only nine months in the past. It was still fresh in their minds, and the full majority of the crew of CSG-21 would never fully recover from it. Comstock, however, had one last trick up his sleeve.

"Edward, can I ask you something? How much did it cost to build this ship?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"An honest one. How much?"

"Does it really-"

"HOW MUCH DID IT COST TO BUILD THIS SHIP?!" John suddenly barked. Loudly. Everyone on the flight deck heard his yell and briefly stopped their work to look at the source of the noise. At the small group, everyone watched the Fleet Admiral and the Fleet C.A.G. stare down each other. Everyone thought they would start throwing fists at each other. That was the best scenario. Worst, a gun fight.

"42 ½ billion dollars, excluding aircraft." Edward growled.

"Okay. You are more than willing to spend 43 billion on a new warship for the US Navy, for a country that exists in a world that _you_ were never born in, and yet here at your own fucking home, you won't lift a finger to protect your own country? Do you really hate Amestris that much?

You have _eleven_ aircraft carriers and _hundreds_ of fighter jets at your disposal, not to mention battleships and other assorted vessels that can hit targets from miles away. We have the most technologically advanced, the most sophisticated and the most powerful and deadly military force this world has ever seen, and yet you won't use any of it to stop Drachma?" Envy had asked. _Why does he always have to be right?_ Edward thought to himself.

"Why do you care so much about Amestris, it's not your country."

"Consider it me paying off a debt to the man who saved mine." Was the short reply. Edward paused.

"Edward, you risked your life on more than one occasion to save our nation. Let us do the same for you." Hughes said.

"I... I can't. It'll be completely unfair our soldiers to send them into another war." Edward sighed heavily.

"I think you underestimate the loyalty your troops have towards you, Edward." Scar said softly. The young admiral simply raised an eyebrow.

"I've spoken to some of your soldiers in Ishval. While it appears that many of them are still suffering from your previous conflict, the general consensus among them all is that they will follow you wherever you go. If you give the order to leave, they'll leave. If you gave the order to fight, they'll fight." The Ishvalan said.

"That's only because I'm their commander, they're my soldiers. They follow my orders, it's as simple as that."

"I'm no soldier, but I truly believe the relationship that exists between you and your soldiers goes far beyond that. They trust you, they trust your judgment, and they believe you'll guide them to safety, like you've done it the past."

"So, they've been swapping old war stories from when I was in command in World War III?" Edward asked.

"It's been brought up a few times. From what I can gather, they'll follow you to hell if you ordered them to."

Edward was silent. He looked to his left and saw a row of Mustang II jets lined up, technicians slapping ordinance on their hard points, loading their cannons with live rounds, etc. _I have the most advanced planes in the world, and all the Drachmans have is this piece of shit._ He thought as he glanced at the riddled wreck.

"John, where's the pilot?" Edward asked.

"I told you, dead."

"I know. Where is his body?"

"Threw it overboard after I interrogated him." The pilot said with an evil smile.

"Get anything useful?"

"Plenty." Envy smiled as he pulled out some papers from his jacket.

"What's that?" Hohenheim asked.

"Just maps. Might even have the route they took when they flew into Amestris from Drachma." Envy smirked as he gave the papers to Mustang.

"Edward, look. On the ground, we can match the Drachmans. I doubt they have State Alchemists, so that gives us an edge. But we don't anything to stop their new toys. But you do." Mustang stated.

"I know. Let's head back to Central. I wanna discuss this more in detail there. Commander Bradley, before we leave, contact our boys and girls in Ishval, let them now to start packing everything up. They might be transferred up North soon." Edward ordered. Mustang and Armstrong shared a brief smile with each other. It wasn't official, but it sounded like Edward Elric, the Fleet Admiral of the US Navy, was now joining the fight.

"Admiral, I have a request for you before we leave." Bradley asked.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Put on a damn shirt."

Edward simply stretched his arms behind his head while he clenched his torso muscles.

"What, you don't like what you see?" he asked with a cocky smile. Bradley pinched his nose, growling. Edward and Envy chuckled at that. _Edward: 16. Envy: 22. Bradley: 0._

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Chinook Chopper #411 [En route to USS America with Admiral Elric and Top Amestrian Government/Military Officials, Lt. Cmdr. Comstock flying escort]

"Are you really staying with us, son?" Hohenheim asked. Edward was currently sitting down in the open door, his hands lazily cradling the M2 Browning.

"Well, it's not an official declaration of war, but for the time being, yes, I am." Edward sighed.

"Official declaration?" Olivia asked.

"In the United States, in order for the country to go to war, the President has to ask Congress to declare war in order for him to deploy troops. However, in times of Martial Law or so-called "National Emergencies", which is nothing more than a cover-up for the government to assume total control of the country, the President can create an "Executive Order" and move troops around at free will. However, when I became Fleet Admiral, I put a stop to it all. Rewrote a lot of the rules and made it that Congress has to declare war, or else all our soldiers stay home. Simple as that." Edward shrugged.

"Yes, but the President and Congress isn't here. You are. And in the absence of the US Government, as the highest ranking officer, you have the authority to make the right decisions for the American people. The Fleet, more specifically." Bradley reminded.

"I know. I just hope it's the right one." Edward sighed.

"_Edward, we're not in World War III anymore, and I get the feeling that Mustang's a trustworthy man, even if he does have the title of Fuhrer._" Envy's voice cracked over the radio, slight disgust coming out of his voice.

"What does the rank of Fuhrer have to do with anything?" Al asked, sensing the tone of Comstock's voice.

"In our world, the term 'Fuhrer' is actually a German word that means leader. But it's now very, closely related to a man named Adolf Hitler. He was once the leader of Germany." Bradley sighed.

"Was he a good man?" Mustang asked. If looks could kill, Kimmler, Edward, Hughes and Bradley would've vaporized Mustang down to the tiniest atom, and then some.

"Hitler was crazed, power-hungry tyrant who destroyed his country in a war. Germany was in a financial and economic depression when he and his party, the Nazi's, took power. He managed to bring it back from the brink, but he did so by building up his military. He wanted world domination. Never mind that his military was one of the most advanced at the time, it was impossible, but he didn't care. He conquered most of Europe and plunged the earth into World War II. When he took command, he said 'give me 10 years, and Germany will be unrecognizable.' He was right, ten years after he took command, Germany had been bombed to hell and back, just a country filled with rubble.

And that's not all. He had over eleven million men, women, and children _slaughtered_ in an attempt to purify the Aryan race. Only two to three million were prisoners of war. The rest were just regular civilians who were killed just because they were of a different ethnicity that Hitler didn't want. So no, he wasn't a good man." Edward quietly snarled. Somehow, that sent shivers down everyone's spines. Edward relaxed and started out the open door. The Amestrians were rather stunned by the figures Edward had stated.

"I would've thought you, out of everyone here, would've thought twice about asking about the rank of Fuhrer being tied to a good man, considering the previous Fuhrer, Bradley, was a Homunculus who tried to have us all killed." Edward snarled.

"Admiral, I'll be the first to admit, Mustang can be a prick a lot of times. But I don't he was inferring this Adolf Hitler was a good man, he didn't know." Olivia stated.

"I'd normally say that being ignorant isn't an excuse, but that doesn't apply here. Alright, if anyone is interested, I can give open access to the library on my ship, all the information on the world on the other side of the gate is there. All of it. But if I catch anyone snooping around or fiddling with something they shouldn't, the whole fleet will be off limits." Edward lied, he still had no intentions of letting any Amestrian onboard his ship.

"That reminds me, a lot of the press and political members from Creta and other Western countries have been asking about your fleet. Asking me, specifically." Mustang stared at the blond Admiral. Edward sighed.

"Tell them the truth."

"The truth. That a state alchemist disappeared two years ago, and then he returns three months ago as a high-ranking officer from another military from another world? Yeah, I can see that going well." Mustang said sarcastically.

"Better to know the truth than live a lie. A close friend of mine once said that to me, and I've always stuck by it. Tell them the truth, and let them decide whether to believe you or not."

"_Ed, we're nearing Central Command. Where the hell do you want me to park this thing?!" _Envy asked. Edward face palmed; he wished John didn't take his jet plane.

"Park it in the courtyard. Mustang, I need your troops to guard my shit for me." Edward said, referring to the chopper and fighter jet.

As the Chinook chopper and the Thunderbolt VTOL jet slowly landed on the ground, Edward had many thoughts run through his head. And all of them were about the conflict with Drachma.

_Time to show them what we can do._

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**Hope you guys enjoyed it, looks like shit's getting serious if Admiral Elric is going to be joining the war. Read and review, please!**


	15. Chapter 14

**The next chapter of Fullmetal's War. Read and review, please! Disclaimer: I own nothing. Enjoy!**

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Fullmetal's War Ch. 14

August 12th, 1917

Central Command Center

Central City, Amestris

Not surprisingly, officers and officials were surprised to see two American war machines park in the main courtyard of Central Command, a large Chinook cargo helicopter, and a heavily-armed F-21 Thunderbird VTOL multi-role jet plane. They were even more surprised to see the Fuhrer and several generals walk out of the chopper.

"So what's the plan?" Mustang asked.

"Form a plan of action, see what we can do against the Drachman's. See what I can bring to the table as well." Ed sighed.

"Okay. May I ask why you brought some of your officers with you?" Mustang asked, distrustful of Edward's officers.

"Commander King Bradley, my Executive Officer and 2nd in command. Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes, Operations Officer and 3rd in command. Lieutenant Commander John Comstock, call sign Envy. He's my Fleet CAG. He's in command of all the pilots in the fleet, they all respond to him. And he's my 4th in command. After him is Lieutenant H.R. Kimmler. Ship's doctor and 'special' weapons expert, 5th in command.

These men make up my Command Staff, but not only that, they're my friends. I trust them with my life, and they trust me with theirs. If anything happens to me, they're next in line to command not only my ship but my fleet as well. Whatever plans we make concerning Drachma, I want them in on it as well. Whatever beef you have with my men, keep it in your room. There's no room for it anywhere else." Edward growled. Strong authority was clearly heard in his voice.

"Alright, I can work with them." the Fuhrer sighed. An official suddenly ran to his side.

"Fuhrer Mustang, I just received word from the station that Emperor Ling Yao and a few of his aides had arrived. He wishes to discuss with you possible plans of deploying troops to help with Drachma."

"Tell him to head to Central Command immediately, we'll wait for him."

"Ling's gonna deploy troops? That might help quicken the war." Edward muttered, tugging a jacket over his shoulders.

"If he's prepared for it. Hitler and Napoleon weren't ready for Russia, they forgot their winter clothes." Envy smirked.

"For God's sake, John, not now." Edward sighed.

"I'm just saying, you were prepared to invade Russia, we actually succeeded at it. Those two didn't."

"Jesus, why do I still have you around?" Edward muttered.

"Because I'm the best pilot you know of."

"Oh, bullshit, Envy, I could kick your ass in the cockpit any day!" Edward responded.

"Yeah, sure you can." The veteran pilot yawned. Edward simply growled as he headed into the building.

"Admiral, what do you think is on your brother's mind? About that you're staying, but only to fight another war?" Hughes asked.

* * *

(Several minutes earlier...)

"_Al, Winry, May, Pops, mind if I drop you guys off at your shop? I'm gonna be discussing the war with these guys. And I'm judging by all the customers surrounding the front garage that you're really busy." Edward smirked. Winry looked out the side and saw that Ed was right. She let herself smile at that sight._

"_Yeah, I probably should get back." Winry replied._

"_Ensign, put this thing on the ground! Comstock, cover our six!" Edward barked out his orders. The massive chopper gently lowered on the main street, surprising everyone on the entire block, while John hovered his plane over the chopper, ready to destroy anything that he perceived as a threat to his commanding officer. Once on the ground, the rear ramp opened up. All of Winry's customers were very surprised at the sight of a US Army Chinook transport parked on the street, its massive rotors sending dust everywhere._

"_I don't plan on dusting your customers, might scare 'em off!" Edward said with a grin. Before she left, Winry hugged the Admiral. Edward awkwardly returned the gesture._

"_It's okay, Winry, I'm staying." Edward whispered softly. Once she, Mae and Hohenheim left, Edward grabbed Al's shoulder._

"_Take care of her for me, okay?"_

"_Don't worry brother, she'll be fine." The two hugged again, but Al couldn't help but feel that he was hugging a completely different man. It was like he no longer recognized Edward Elric anymore._

* * *

"Honestly, I don't care what he thinks anymore. I only care about the men and women in the fleet right now. Try to bring back as many I can." Edward sighed.

"Maybe so, but he doesn't know what you can do. What you're capable on the battlefield. We do. Do you want your own brother to see that?" Hughes asked.

"You guys have seen it, and yet you're still here."

"That's because we're used to it, and we fought with each other, we know what to expect from one another. Alphonse hasn't seen you in action, and that could really traumatize him."

"Believe me, Hughes, he's been traumatized enough." Edward sighed, remembering that fateful night, all those years ago…

"How so?" at that point, the Admiral sighed heavily, almost very irritated.

"Try to imagine your body is destroyed, and your soul has to be bonded to a suit of armor for around five years. You can't eat, you can't sleep, and you can't feel pain, pleasure, joy, sorrow, sadness, shit like that."

"He's not the only one who's had a hard time." Hughes replied gently. Edward knew what he meant. Although the failed Human Transmutation still haunted him from time to time, the memories of World War III were the main causes for his nightmares. Like he said earlier, he hadn't gotten over it. Edward did not believe that he would ever get over it. Just like Ed would never know the pain that Al went through when they tried to resurrect their mother and having to live as a soul in armor, Al would never know the pain of having to fight in a war, having to lead men into combat, to watch those same soldiers, his brothers and sisters die in front of him, to stain your hands forever with the blood of other humans... Edward shook those thoughts out of his head as he entered the conference room. After additional chairs were brought in and everyone was getting comfortable,

"Now that we can get back on track, I do believe introductions are to be made concerning our new guests." Edward sighed as he stood up.

"Edward Elric, Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy. I'm the commanding officer of the large fleet of warships outside Aerugo that appeared three months ago. Some of you may know me better as the Fullmetal Alchemist. Commander King Bradley, my executive officer of my ship and next in line to command my fleet. Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes, chief-of-operations officer. He and Commander Bradley keep the fleet running smoothly. Lieutenant Commander John Comstock, Fleet CAG. He's my top pilot and the commander of all the pilots in the fleet. Lieutenant Henry R. Kimmler. Ship's doctor and... special weapons expert." Edward said, being careful to describe Kimmler's job description. While it was true that Kimmler was the head doctor, his knowledge of the human body made him the perfect choice for Edward to use him to build bio-chemical WMD's.

"Alright. We were discussing our current course of action..." as Mustang droned on about the current war against Drachma, Edward studied the map on the wall. He noticed something that the Amestrian generals, including Olivia Armstrong, had failed to notice.

"You see what I'm seeing?" Edward whispered.

"Yes, and I don't like it. These people are setting themselves up for a slaughter and don't even realize it." Bradley replied.

"It's not that bad, but yes, they are gonna get hurt." Edward replied. Mustang saw the whispering between the two Navy officers.

"Admiral Elric, Commander Bradley, you two wish to add something to our conversation?" Mustang asked.

"Your plan sucks, Mein Fuhrer." Edward said somewhat sarcastically. All the generals immediately stared at Edward. No-one dared go against the Fuhrer and live to see tomorrow morning. If only they knew who Admiral Elric was, and what he was capable of doing…

"Please, enlighten us, Admiral. If there is a better plan, then I'm all ears." Mustang said with a slight smirk as Emperor Ling Yao and Lan Fan walked in. Edward simply walked up to the board, grabbed the pencil and drew arrows curving from Drachma to Amestris on the east and west sides. It was very clear what Edward was implying.

"If they can't get past Briggs, they can just simply go around it. And now that they have air power, that'll be very easy for them to do."

"And how would you go about that, Admiral Elric?" a General Gardner asked.

"Based on the technology the Drachmans have, judging it off the plane I saw, I'd wager they'd have zeppelins in their arsenal. They're like hot-air balloons, but much more massive with a rigid steel or iron frame, with propellers outside to help it move. I'll just come out and say this: Amestris is on the losing end of this fight, and if you maintain a war of attrition against them, they'll do one of two things; keep sending troops to be slaughtered against Ft. Briggs _only_ as a distraction as they fly airships around the mountains and parachute troops into the lower country. Or two, they'll just arm zeppelins with bombs and destroy Ft. Briggs from above."

"I'm afraid you didn't answer my question."

"How I would do it? Go around Briggs. And that's exactly what they're gonna do. If I were you, Mustang, I would evacuate all of upper Amestris down south."

"All of upper Amestris? How much of a new threat does Drachma pose with these new weapons they have?" Ling asked.

"A very big threat. I won't lie, Amestris is now on the losing end of this fight."

"And how much of a threat is Drachma to your ships?" Ling asked.

"Excuse us for a moment." Edward said as he and his officers left the room. Once they were outside, everyone suddenly heard very, _very_, loud laughter from the hallway.

"He thinks... a bunch of biplanes... and zeppelins... are a threat... to our ships?!" Envy laughed.

"If they... think it's that bad... we really are... the only hope... they have!" Hughes laughed. For about 20 minutes, the American super-soldiers laughed their asses off, and the Amestrians on the inside could only listen in slight embarrassment. Once it died down, the Americans walked back in, amusement written on their faces and their eyes.

"Good one, Ling. I needed that laugh." Edward smirked.

"I was serious, Ed. How much of a threat are they to your ships?" the Xingese emperor asked.

"Alright, listen closely. If the Drachmans ever do get close to my fleet, they'll have one hell of a nasty surprise waiting for them. They're not a threat. That being said, if they get within striking range, then Amestris will have lost the war. No-one should be under any illusions on that." Edward said sternly. The room was silent at that.

"Admiral, can you defeat the Drachmans?" Mustang asked.

"Theoretically, yes."

"Theoretically?" Riza asked.

"How much do we know about Drachma? All we know for sure, is that they are a massive country filled with snow, an impressively large military force, and now they have air power. I don't know how big their military is, or their strength. Nor do I know about the country itself, how big it is, where their vital infrastructure is. I need that kind of vital information to effectively defeat them."

"But your pilot was able to destroy some Drachman planes by himself. And he destroyed an attacking army at Ft. Briggs, again, by himself. I would say you have a big advantage over them, Admiral." General Armstrong interjected.

"True, I did accomplish those objectives by myself. But the fact is, in order to win this war, it will be done by boots on the ground. Air strikes will help turn the tide of the battle, but that's all. Air power alone isn't enough to win a war, not in my opinion." Envy replied.

"Envy, you fought those planes. What do you have to say about them?" Mustang asked. John stood up and stared the Fuhrer in the eyes.

"Well, compared to my planes, they are _horribly_ outdated. Nowhere near as fast, nowhere near as strong, they don't pack enough firepower to even compare to what my planes can carry. The only advantage they have, in an aerial dogfight, is that they are more maneuverable, they can out-turn our planes because they're slower. But even that won't help them. But, in my engagement, I learned something about that that honestly concerns me. And this should scare all of you: these guys knew what they were doing. The attack on Liore was carefully, very methodically, planned out.

If there were any major targets in the city, they hit them precisely. If there wasn't, then they only did to send a message. What really concerns me the most, is that those pilots had experience. And I'm not talking about experience of shooting at ground targets, I'm talking about aerial combat. They knew what they were doing when I engaged them. They were no match for me, but they knew how to fly, and they knew how to fight. Which only tells me that the Drachmans not only have combat airplanes, but they have had them for a while, and have been using them.

Since we don't know what lies north of Amestris, it should be safe to assume that Drachma encountered countries to the north with air power and build their own machines to combat them."

The room, once again, was filled with silence. A very heavy silence that could be cut with a knife.

"Fuhrer, do you want my advice?" Edward asked.

"I'm all ears, Admiral." Mustang sighed.

"Gather your State Alchemists and do to Drachma what you did to Ishval. Go on the offensive and strike now before the Drachmans send another force." Edward replied. He was met with skeptical looks and scoffs.

"A military strike into Drachma? Pardon me, Admiral, but a strike into Drachma would be suicide. We have next to no knowledge about the country itself. We could be walking into a trap, for all we know." Lt. General Madsen said.

"You don't think it's possible?" Bradley asked.

"How could it be? The risk is too great." the man scoffed.

"Ladies and Gentleman, must I remind all of you that we are at war?! There will always be risks!" Edward said rather boldly.

"Admiral, even with your weapons, it just can't be done. If we maintain a defensive position-" Mustang argued.

"We've been maintaining a defensive position for the past two years, and it's gotten us nowhere closer to victory! Maybe the Admiral's right, maybe we should strike back!" Olivia cut in.

"Admiral, what you're proposing, I really don't know if we can do it. We don't know the terrain of the country, the size, the strength of their military, and an invasion could very well end in disaster. What you're proposing, it's not possible." Mustang said. Edward took the time to look in everyone's eyes. With the exception of General Armstrong and his officers, everyone had the same thing in their eyes: defeat. The war had simply worn them out. They were tired and were desperately wishing for a change.

"I remember Amestris had no problem invading Ishval and turning it into charcoal. Nor did it have any other problems invading the surrounding countries when Bradley was in command. Under his rule, Amestris had a very strong military. But ever since you've taken command, I understand that you've been downsizing the military. You've even changed the program of the State Alchemists. You've been more focused on changing Amestris into a democratic state, which I support. You've been opening up the borders a bit for free trade and commerce, which I can agree with, although not wholeheartedly.

Ladies and gentleman, most of you did not know me when I was the Fullmetal Alchemist, although I'm sure my name did spread. I was just a young, cocky, naïve, and arrogant kid, who believed that the use of alchemy could solve everything. Now, as a 32-year old soldier, I've grown up. A lot. There are times that I wonder why I was taken from this world and forced to serve in the military of another one. I've seen a lot of things over there; I've seen grown men and women rise to the challenge and succeed, and I've seen plenty of those who let their obstacles defeat them.

I'm seeing that same look in your eyes right now. Fuhrer Mustang, you refuse to grow the military because you don't want to end up like Bradley. You wish to change this country into what you think is better. While some countries appreciate that, Drachma obviously doesn't. General Olivia Armstrong, and her soldiers at Ft. Briggs, have been the only thing keeping Amestris safe for the past two years. It's time to change things around. Revitalize the military, bring back the State Alchemists as a Special Forces program, and strike back at Drachma and show them that Amestris shouldn't be messed with." Edward said.

"Admiral, I understand what you're saying. But in our current position, what you are asking is impossible." Mustang sighed. Edward stared at Mustang. He then took off his jacket, boots and pants. Everyone stared as Edward then removed his prosthetic limbs and tossed them on the table. Breathing in deeply, he suddenly jumped on the table, grunting as he did so. With a slight groan, he balanced himself on his left leg. Everyone stared at him. He was standing only in his boxers, but everyone stared at his muscular, war-torn body.

"Don't you dare tell me, that it can't be done." Edward growled, staring directly at Mustang. Mustang suddenly realized that the conviction Edward displayed was not from a normal man. He lost his arm and leg, but he didn't let that stop him. He joined the State Alchemist program when he was only a kid so he could find a way to bring his brother back. He personally saved Amestris from being turned into a Philosopher Stone at the hands of the Homunculi. He rose the ranks to become the Fleet Admiral of the Navy, despite going through a hell that Mustang couldn't even begin to imagine. His determination to accomplish his goals, no matter the obstacle, was what kept him going. Both as the Fullmetal Alchemist and the Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy. That thought actually terrified the Flame Alchemist.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy, Edward Elric_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: General Olivia Armstrong_

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Central Command Center

(11:28 PM)

"I need a smoke." Edward sighed as he stepped out onto the balcony, gazing up at the night sky. He needed the break from the tireless planning of the war effort. The plan wasn't bad, but not that great either. Edward would cram as many troops in Baschool as he could, but it wouldn't be enough. So a mandatory evacuation was given to northern Amestris, all civilians needed to pull out immediately. The reason was to make room for Edward's soldiers.

Being that he had 55 transport ships that was originally meant for the occupation of Asia, China more specifically, he had an incredibly large amount of soldiers. While he would've preferred to use C-130's and C-17's, he knew he couldn't re-assign those vital planes from the European Front. So it was a good thing he brought back the old Liberty cargo ships to move troops and supplies. Each ship was built to haul 900 souls, along with the the necessary equipment, such as tanks, Humvee's, artillery, etc. Edward quickly did the math in his head.

_Let's see, 55 ships, each carrying 900 soldiers. That's a total of 49,500 troops. Sure wish I had some amphibious assault ships. But all of them were in the dry-docks. And because of the war, I had to slap Marines and Special Ops on my ships to help protect them from boarders. Let's see, if I were to re-assign all the Marines and Spec Op troopers guarding my ships, which would push me well above 51,500... It's not gonna be enough. Amestris is gonna have to provide the bulk of the manpower. And then there's the logistics as well. If I can find ores and minerals for steel, I can have good supply of materials for bullets, weapons, missiles, aircraft frames and fuselages… but that's gonna require me to find them. Mustang did say Youswell was flourishing, maybe I can use the mines there. But there's bound to be more sites around the country. Maybe I'll look in Aerugo. With no-one home, there's no-one to stop me from digging the country up. Yeah, I'll do that. Mine in Aerugo. It's right next to the fleet, so that won't be a problem. But there's the problem with fuel, how much can I... well, that shouldn't be that hard. Just get the right ingredients together and transmute them into jet fuel. But we need a large supply of it._

Edward softly smiled to himself, remembering the looks on everyone's faces when he told all the generals that he had enough supplies to last him 7 years on his own. And that was without rationing it all. But that included the extra ships he was given to escort, the cargo and transport ships that he had brought with him. CSG-21 on its own would last only a year at most. He was gonna have to be careful about managing his supplies. Then again, the USS America carried 40 nuclear ICBM's. Just one of them was about the same power as the old Soviet Union Tsar Bomba. And he had 110 individual nuclear warheads that could be mounted to fighter jet missiles...

_No, I promised myself a long time ago I wouldn't use them unless I absolutely had to. Besides, the threat of nuclear annihilation worked back on Earth. Here, they have no idea what a nuclear bomb is. I'd have to show it to them in order for them to-_

"You seem like you're thinking hard." General Armstrong interrupted Edward's train of thought.

"Just thinking. I can bring up over 51,500 troops to the front. I'm sure Amestris can field more than that, if you were to assign a draft. But I don't know anything about Drachma. Not to mention I don't have any long-range bombers with me, so I can't target their infrastructure so easily. There's just too many unknowns as well." Edward sighed, puffing his cigarette.

"Well, you seemed very adamant about invading Drachma."

"We have to, or else they'll just keep pressing forward. And God help us if they have medium or heavy bombers as well." Edward sighed. As the two blonde military officers chatted away, in the conference room...

"Well, this war oughta be very different from what we just came from. Might be good for us." Hughes sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

"Why would a war possible be good for you?" Lan Fan asked, confused at the American's statement.

"Mustang, when you fight a war, you rely heavily on ground troops, correct? It's fought as a trench war? With large armies? Well, in our world, wars are fought differently. We can still field large armies, but wars are usually fought by sending in small strike teams for assassination, sabotage, etc. Not to mention, our military is a very technologically advanced one. Fighting against Drachma will determine whether we are capable of fighting without some of our most advanced weapons and technology that we take for granted back in our world."

"Well, at least we won't have Naval Intelligence snooping in the background this time." Kimmler yawned.

"That was early on, remember? Edward took care of it. Sure pissed off a lot of the higher ups, but they learned their lesson all too well." Bradley sighed.

"What do you mean by that?" Mustang asked.

"Fuhrer, here's something you should know. In our world, wars are not only fought by soldiers and pilots on the front lines. They are also fought by men and women hiding in the shadows, pulling the strings, getting to decide who lives and who dies. Edward used to be one of those men, only he was at the front lines the whole time. He probably still is one of them, and he's the very best. He's very dangerous."

"Why?"

"Listen. Edward Elric is one of the richest and most powerful men in the world. He has made plenty of allies, but he has also made his fair share of enemies as well. The Russians and Chinese put out bounties on his head, and as the war progressed, the bounties only grew larger and larger until it got to the point that even if he was killed, the two countries wouldn't be able to afford to pay the bounty hunter because they had no money.

But he's made plenty of enemies inside the United States as well. Many Admirals and Generals hate him, despite that he's the single commanding officer of the military. But even more respect him. But everyone in the Admiralty, and I mean _everyone_, is afraid of him. Even the President of the United States is scared of Admiral Elric. Plenty of men and women have tried to go up against him, and they have all failed. And every single one of them wish that Edward had them killed instead of letting them live, because he's made their lives absolute hell. No one can touch him, but he can touch everyone else. Make sense?" Bradley asked. Mustang pondered his words and realized what Bradley said. No one had any dirt on Edward to blackmail him with, probably because he had come from an alternate world, but Edward had dug up dirt to blackmail his opponents.

"So if you're afraid of him, why do you follow him?" Ling asked.

"I follow him because he's what a leader should be. The first to rise in the morning, and the last to sleep at night. A man who leads his troops on the battlefield, and doesn't leave until all his soldiers are off the field. He cares more for his soldiers than his own life. The devotion we have to him, and him to us, it's something you have to see for yourself. I owe him my life. As does every American in my fleet. It may be a debt that can't be fully repaid, but I'll do my best. If saving Amestris pays it off, then so be it. Personally, I'm not scared of him. None of us are, we've been with him long enough. What we're scared of is what he's capable of doing." Bradley warned.

"What do you mean? What is he capable of doing?" Riza asked.

"Let me put it like this: Don't get into a fight with him if you can avoid it. If he says you're a dead man, then you are one. And there's nothing you can do about it."

"You said many Admirals and Generals hate him. Why?"

"This is my theory, mind you, but I believe it's because he was, somehow, systematically taking control of every branch of the military and transforming them into better versions of their previous self. He streamlined and expanded the production and development of all the services of the military. Even though we took heavy losses during the beginning of the war, he turned it all around and made the United States stronger than it ever has been.

He kept getting more and more credit and recognition from the higher ups, from the President and from the Senate and Congress. Money that used to be flowing in the pockets of other military officers was now, all of a sudden, being shoved into Edward's hands, giving him the ability to do whatever he wanted with it. Poured all of it into weapons development, expansion of the military ground forces, anything he could think of that was practical that would help us win the war. Building the _USS America_ was a long stretch, but it's proved to be incredibly helpful, as everyone here will soon find out.

Many officers hated him, and tried to bring him down. But they all failed, and Edward responded in force on all of them. To sum it up, if you're on his good side, stay there. If you end up on his bad side, then put your affairs in order. He'll leave you wishing you had a bullet in your head." Mustang looked out the window, watching General Armstrong and Admiral Elric talk with each other.

"He sure has changed, hasn't he?" he softly asked.

"I leave such judgments up to you." Bradley said, walking out of the room.

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**Hope you liked this chapter. Please add reviews, reviews are what make the fanfic world go round! :) Next chapter up soon!**


	16. Chapter 15

**Happy New Year! First chapter of my story for 2016! Read and review, please! Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Fullmetal's War Ch. 15

August 12th, 1917

Central City, Amestris

Edward gazed out the open door of the Chinook chopper as it gently soared over the city, his left leg lazily dangling in the air.

"_What's on your mind, boss?_" Envy's voice cackled over the comm.

"Just thinking about what we're gonna do, what's gonna happen. Never thought the Drachmans, or any country in this world would have air power. That changes things."

"_We're still superior, Admiral. But you're right, if the Drachmans get to within striking range of the ships, the war will be lost. I've just thought of another thing. If we are committed to this, I mean really committed, then I need an airfield at the north to launch planes. Flying to and from Briggs to the carriers will take too much time."_

"I understand. I'll get the engineers starting on it as soon as we find a suitable place. We also need to start sending weapons up to Ft. Briggs as well. Nothing too advanced, just some field artillery pieces. Maybe some SAM's and air-defense weaponry."

"_We can scrounge some, that won't be difficult. What might be difficult is getting General Armstrong's permission. But... that might be easy. You two seemed to hit it off pretty well, don't you think?_" the sly tone in the pilot's voice was unmistakable. Edward smiled at that.

"Come on, el-tee. I'll admit, she's an incredibly attractive woman, and one hell of a leader. She has this strong, dominate personality as well."

"_Well, you were into the whole BDSM thing for a while, there. You think she'd make a good dominatrix?_" John chuckled.

"Don't go there, Lieutenant. Just because we screwed around with several Dominatrixes in New York City for a while, doesn't mean-"

"_I know, just thought I'd ask. You left the door wide open, so I took it. Hey, just thought of something completely unrelated. When are we gonna firebomb Drachma? It worked on China, and I had a hell of a fun time doing it." _Envy chuckled.

"Yeah, you did." Edward said softly. Edward had ordered the firebombing of Asia to get the Chinese to surrender. Contrary to John's belief, it didn't work, but Admiral Elric didn't realize that until _after_ the military ran out of targets to hit. Which meant all of Asia had been reduced to ash. And anyone in it as well. After a moment of silence,

"_Admiral, are we really going to wage war against Drachma? Because you are right on one thing. It's only been nine months since the end of World War III._" Envy said cautiously.

"We'll get through it, John. We handled the Russians and Chinese. We can handle Drachma."

"_The majority of the men and women in those transports are rookies. Fresh minds. The rest, including you and me, are vets. We're the royally-fucked-up-in-the-head kind."_

"We'll get through it. Besides, you and every American has a debt to me that needs to be paid, remember?" Edward smiled.

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember."_ John sighed.

"This is gonna be different. No satellites, no networks to hack into, none of that kind of stuff. If we win, the United States is still capable of kicking ass."

"_And if we lose, then it means we've grown too dependent on technology to fight our wars."_ That thought was sobering to both men.

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Rockbell &amp; Garfiel Automail

Central City, Amestris

Al watched as the Chinook helicopter and Thunderbird fighter-jet soared over the city towards the southern horizon. Even in the night sky, he could still see the machines roar over his head. The chopping noise of the propellers on the helicopter and the extremely loud engines on the plane brought out just about everyone on the block to see what was in the air tonight. _Pull Harder on the Strings of your Martyr_by _Trivium_ was blaring in the night sky.

"So Brother's really staying?" Al asked.

"To help Amestris beat Drachma, but yes, he's staying." Mustang sighed.

"Sounds like somethings on your mind, Fuhrer. Does it have something to do with my son?" Hohenheim asked.

"It's just... he's changed. A lot. Kept pushing for the military to invade Drachma. I told him we couldn't do such a thing, not under our current condition."

"Maybe he only said that because of his weapons and machines." Al said.

"Maybe. I look at him, and I still expect to see that young, arrogant alchemist on a desperate search to bring your body back to normal. Not a military commander who's pushing for a military incursion into Drachma."

"He's changed. The only thing we don't know is how much." Al sighed.

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Admiral's Quarters, Deck 2

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

New Pearl Harbor

Edward let his eyes roam over the data-pad, the soft light illuminating his face.

"What are you looking at?" Envy asked softly.

"Just getting my bearings on the P-40 Warhawk. How it's gonna compare against our planes."

"Don't worry about it. We can hit them from miles away via air-to-air missiles. They can't do that. Sure they have bombs, but that's it. And their guns only seem to be about .30 cal. We got 20mm rounds that explode very violently. We'll be fine." Envy sighed as he snuggled closer to the Admiral's naked body.

"Maybe so. But I want to start mining immediately. We can repair and build new planes on the ship, but we need the materials to do so. Not to mention the replenishment of munitions and fuel." Ed sighed, turning the pad off, putting it aside.

"We got plenty to last us awhile. Just put it off for tomorrow." Envy muttered very sleepily. After the fuck session they had, he just wanted to sleep.

"I have a question for you."

"Go ahead."

"Where are we gonna get new pilots if it gets that bad?"

"...If worst comes to worst, we can always just nuke Drachma and be done with it." Ensign Sarah McConnell sighed.

Edward looked over to his right and saw two _gorgeous_ female officers in the same bed also. While the sex was _incredible_, he knew he couldn't do it anymore. As the Fleet Admiral, he knew he had set a better example for his subordinates.

_If that means no more late nights with the CAG and two or more women, then so be it._

* * *

August 12th, 1917

Bio-Chemical WMD Storage Unit #1-Alpha

Deck 7, Corridor 1A x 2D, Sector Beta-5

"You know what the 'Devil's Breath' is capable of doing, gentlemen. The question is whether we should use it or not." Kimmler sighed.

"Doesn't matter what we think, it all depends on the Admiral. If he wants to use this against the Drachmans, then that's his decision. Remember, he was able to get the ban lifted on bio-chemical weapons. If it wasn't for this, then World War III might've lasted longer." Hughes remarked.

"Yeah. We know what it'll do against super-soldiers. Imagine what this will do to normal humans. This shit will scare the hell out of everyone." Bradley said.

"I know. Edward and I built it, remember?"

"I remember. We're gonna have to explain to Mustang just what kind of weapons we have. Not to mention... I don't want Ling's troops intermingling with ours. If that happens, then it'll be a bloodbath. It took everything I had to not rip those two gooks to shreds in the meeting earlier today." Bradley sighed.

"You're not the only one, Commander." Hughes yawned loudly.

* * *

August 13th, 1917

Central Command Center

Central City, Amestris

"Out of the question." Edward sighed.

"It would be better if they heard it from you."

"Mustang, the press is gonna go wild. I'm not trying to protect my ass, I'm trying to protect yours. Just... hear me out. The Fullmetal Alchemist goes missing by performing a Human Transmutation. Something highly illegal. Two years later, he comes back as a high ranking military officer of another military from another country from a parallel world. The press will swarm on you like crazy. They'll want to know why you let me on the team, about what happened to me, if I'm gonna fight the Drachmans... get my drift? It'll be never ending."

"You were the one that told me to tell them the truth. Why are you backing out now?" Mustang asked.

"Because I've thought about it some more. If the media finds out about that, shit's gonna grow worse. My honest advice? Declare martial law and shut down the radio and newspapers. At the very least, control the content of what's being produced."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing. I'm not gonna do such a thing. If you won't tell the press, then I will. And I'll accept whatever backlash is thrown at me."

Edward simply stared at Mustang.

"Okay. I'll go tell them. Not everything, just enough. You owe me one, Fuhrer. Actually, you can pay me back right now. Give me complete control of the railroads so I can start hauling troops and equipment to the north immediately."

"You have it."

* * *

Day and night the railroads ran non-stop, hauling American troops and supplies to Baschool, Northern Command, other various towns and villages that were abandoned that Edward used to house his soldiers, and most of all, Ft. Briggs.

* * *

November 2nd, 1917

Ft. Briggs

Amestris

Everyone at Ft. Briggs was on edge. It had been over two months since the last major attack by the Drachmans. Everyone had the feeling that the Drachmans were gonna hit, and hit hard. The attacks were usually almost every three days or so. But a whole month without the Drachmans on the front doorstep? Something wasn't right. General Armstrong was in her office, going over another weapons report. And she didn't like what she read.

_The Admiral needs to get those weapons here soon, or we're done for._ Was all she thought. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Enter." She said coldly.

"General Armstrong, Admiral Elric has the weapons and equipment he said he would deliver to us." Major Miles reported.

"I'll be down there immediately." She said, grabbing her sword as she stood up. Down in the main garage near the front of the base stood a _massive _convoy of American trucks, Humvee's, Stryker's, Bradley APC's, Abram MBT's, and MRAP vehicles, along with large trailers holding large artillery pieces and missile batteries.

"Admiral Elric."

"General Armstrong. Got the weapons and equipment you need."

"I can see that. You mind explain some of these weapons?"

"Kind of self-explanatory. Artillery guns, missile batteries, anti-aircraft defense, normal shit for base defense." Edward said rather nonchalantly. For him, it was normal. While Olivia understood artillery weaponry well, and she figured that the missile batteries were like rocket launchers but on a much larger scale. But other weapons like anti-air weaponry, she didn't have the strongest grasp on them, other than that they were weapons meant to shoot down airplanes.

"With your permission, General, I'd like to station several of my troops in the Ft. to supervise the installation and the use of my weapons. It's not that I don't trust your men, but I want to make sure they'll run properly."

"I understand. We don't have the much room, but we'll make whatever accommodations are necessary."

"Thank you. So, you guys wanna see a demonstration of one of my favorites?" Edward said with a sly grin.

Up on the top of Ft. Briggs, a Chinook helicopter lowered a large weapon platform that held six missiles. Practically all of Ft. Briggs had gathered up on top, eager to see the new weapon that was being deployed. Edward stood facing the defenders, his back to the blood-soaked valley. Two American technicians manned the weapon.

"I have a question I'd like to ask: Is it better to be feared or respected? I say, is it a little too much to ask for both? Can't you have both? So, with that in mind, I present to you the next generation of missile defense weaponry. Many people claim that the best weapon is the one you never have to fire. I, on the other hand, respectfully disagree. I prefer the weapon you only have to use once! That's how J. Robert Oppenheimer did it, that's how General Leslie Groves did it, it's how America does it... and it's been working very well for us. Find an excuse to let one of these bad boys grow its wings, and the Drachmans won't come out of their caves for a while. Sergeant?" Edward nodded his head. One of the missiles suddenly launched in the sky. Once in flight, the outer shell was blown off due to tiny explosive charges, exposing the main warhead and 20 smaller missiles hidden in the body. The smaller missiles departed the main tube and screamed down towards the ground.

"Ladies and Gentleman, the TK-1A Base Missile Defense System. Codename: the Rapture."

The missiles slammed into the mountains. Although they were a considerable distance away, the explosions were enough to shatter the outer windows of Ft. Briggs. The shockwave was enough to send snow, dirt, dust and other debris in all directions, coating everyone with a fine sheen of ice. The mountains looked horribly deformed. Edward just stood there grinning like an idiot as he shook off the snow from his back and shoulders.

"How... how many of these do you have?" Buccaneer asked.

"At the moment, 1,201 missile turrets. In terms of the actual missiles, 17,242 here in the north." Edward said with a grin.

"17, 242 missiles?" he asked slowly.

"And that's just up here. I got plenty more back at the Fleet. There's a reason why it's taken so long to get everything up to the North. Hell, I'm still shipping supplies up here. So, what'd you think?"

"I think the Drachmans are gonna get a nasty surprise the next time they show up." Armstrong said confidently. What the Admiral oh-so-conveniently forgot to mention was that the Rapture MDS worked better when satellites and drones were guiding the missiles to their destination. Without them, it was a simple point-and-shoot weapon. Incredibly destructive, but it still had its limits.

"I'm sure they will. Like I said before, I'd like to put some of my men here in the fort to run my weapons. Don't hesitate to use them, General. I think you'll like what they can do." The Admiral said with a smile.

"I'll be sure to remember that."

"General, got any booze? Something strong, preferably?" Edward yawned.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's a dumb tradition I started a while ago. Whenever I test a new weapon system, my friends and I go drinking to celebrate our recent success. What do you think?" Armstrong seemed a little reluctant.

"Come on, General. You've been blasting away Drachmans for the past two years, don't you think you and your officers deserve a break? Besides, you've seen what my weapons can do. If the Drachmans do show up, they'll get a nice surprise."

Armstrong, Buccaneer, and Miles did have to agree that Edward did have a point: they could use a break. And the Admiral's weapons could definitely hold off any Drachman army that came close.

"Alright, did you have a place in mind?" Armstrong asked.

* * *

November 2nd, 1917

Madame Christmas

Central City, Amestris

"So, when are you gonna get the rest of your weapons installed at Briggs?" Miles asked, pocketing his shades.

"Depends. I'm still using the railroads to haul all my equipment. And it's a lot of stuff." Edward sighed, popping the top off his bottle.

"You said you had enough supplies to last seven years." Armstrong reminded.

"We do. But most of the equipment we're hauling was originally for another purpose: the occupation of China. We destroyed most of it during the war, and most of its occupants are nothing but ash... but there were still plenty of Chinese people in the country. Most of what we got was to quickly and brutally suppress any rebellion the Chinese people could put up. But, all those weapons have seen use during the war. And they are very good at what they do." Envy said, downing some vodka.

"What do you mean, the former occupants of China are ash?" Buccaneer asked.

"I used a tactic called firebombing. It's just a technique that destroys targets by the use of high-incendiary devices. We use napalm, white phosphorus, and thermite explosives. A combination of those three items is enough to... well, it'd be enough to turn a city eight times the size of Central into a pile of molten steel. And that's with the inhabitants still in the city limits.

During the war, I ordered these weapons to be dropped non-stop on Asia to get them to surrender. Whether Operation: NORSEFIRE was a success or not depends on who you talk to." Edward surmised.

"Why wouldn't be a success?" Miles asked.

"Because the bombing campaign lasted 5 and a half years under mine, and the Admiral's command. We were in charge. We called it off when we ran out of targets to hit." Envy piped in.

"Wait, you ran out of targets?" Armstrong asked.

"Started off hitting military targets. Then came industrial cities. Then farms and crop fields, then large forests. Eventually, the order came down to just burn all of Asia to the ground. We must've killed billions, but they never gave up. Gotta give it to 'em, tough bastards." Hughes sighed.

"So how did you win?"

"I'm still wondering about that myself." Edward sighed heavily, staring at his bottle.

"Their military was nonexistent at that point. Their infrastructure totally demolished, they couldn't build more ships, more weapons, nothing. Could they field a large ground army? Of course they could; despite their casualties, they still had plenty for a ground army. But that was it. They had barely enough money left to buy some outdated submarines on the black market, but it wasn't enough. We were ready to invade, but at the very end, they sent a declaration saying they surrendered. We didn't believe it until they signed the papers." Bradley said softly, his eye going the thousand-yard stare route.

"Yeah." Was all Kimmler said as he puffed on his pipe.

"Kimmler, Hughes, you two were in the CIA and the NSA. Got any information for us on why the Chinese surrendered?" Envy asked.

"We don't have anything new. And because we executed the men and women who signed the papers, we'll never know." Kimmler sighed.

"What happened?" Buccaneer asked.

"Okay. After the Chinese sent out their declaration of surrender, I told them the only way I would accept it is if they personally signed the documents themselves. Once all the representatives from all the warring countries signed the papers, the war was officially over. After that, I lined up all the enemy leaders and shot them all as a message to Asia that if they tried anything, I would personally make the Asian race extinct."

"Were you close to accomplishing your goal?" Miles asked.

"Exterminating a single race off the face of the earth has never been my goal. My goal was winning the war at any cost. Besides, I don't know if I could've accomplished such a feat."

"Admiral, can I ask you something?" Olivia asked.

"Go ahead."

"Why'd you hold us all at gunpoint when we boarded your ship?"

The mood took a somewhat darker mood.

"It was to protect my officers. I felt that when everyone saw my XO and CAG, they would more than likely try to kill them. So, I felt the best option was to have my Marines hold everyone at gunpoint with orders to gun you down if you tried to interfere. As for actually threatening to shoot you... I've been with these gentlemen for a long time. A very long time. We've fought with each other, bled with each other, the five of us have been through the worst the war had to offer us, and we're still here. I'm not gonna throw that all away. I'll admit, I had a hard time trusting Bradley and Comstock when I first met them, I thought they were Homunculi as well. After a while, I started to trust them, and here we are, 12 years later. I'll do whatever it takes to protect my friends. Don't ever doubt that." Edward said very sternly. Bradley, Envy, Hughes and Kimmler wouldn't say it, especially not to Edward's face, but they all felt that Edward was slightly deluding himself. The real reason wasn't because Mustang and his crew were a threat to the two officers, the real reason Edward threatened to kill everyone in the auditorium was because he wanted them off his ship, because they called him a liar.

"Something bothering you, soldier?" Bradley asked. Buccaneer was staring at him.

"You just look a lot like Fuhrer Bradley." the large soldier growled.

"And this King Bradley was a Homunculus named Wrath. I know, Edward told me. I'm guessing my counterpart did something to wrong you?"

"Yeah, if you call getting a sword through your abdomen being wronged, then yes." Buccaneer snarled. Bradley sighed deeply.

"Soldier, I'm sorry that happened. But that wasn't me, obviously. I'm no Homunculus, just a regular super-soldier with one eye."

"I know. You just look a lot like him, that's all."

"Buccaneer, we're not here to fight you. I think that should be very clear considering I never used my weapons against Ft. Briggs. Now, you don't have to like my officers, I'm not asking you to. What I am asking, is that you respect them. They'll do the same to you. Am I clear?" Edward growled. The table was silent for a bit before Armstrong chose to change the subject. It was something that she wanted to know for a while.

"Kimmler, Admiral Elric once described you as a special weapons expert as well as being the ship's doctor. Could you describe that?"

"As the ship's doctor, I possess immense knowledge about the human body. I've always been interested in the medical field. But... it's a long story, guys." Kimmler sighed, pouring himself another shot.

"We got plenty of time."

"Okay. I've always wanted to be a doctor. But my work at the CIA, the Central Intelligence Agency, took precedence. For the longest time, I was an undercover agent for the Mob. The Mob is just a very common name for a large, very large Italian-American criminal society that stretches across the entire Continental United States. I was working undercover in the Mob for the CIA for a few years. At the same time, I took night classes to get my medical degree. I began to use that knowledge, however, in dark ways. I could get any Mafioso to talk just by torturing them. It worked, we caught plenty of bad guys who gave up very useful information that protected our country. After several years, Edward caught wind of my skill set and knowledge, and offered me the position as the Chief Medical Officer on his ship. I accepted without any hesitation, I wanted to move on. I wanted to save lives instead of taking them.

However, because of my knowledge of the human body, what makes it tick, Edward decided to use that to create bio-chemical weapons of unimaginable terror. Imagine a virus, a man-made virus. The most terrifying biological weapon ever created, and combine that with chemical particles that can inflict specific body parts which will in a few seconds cause the degradation of the entire human body and kill you in an extremely inhumane way. When a person is exposed to it, it stops the brain from sending nerve messages down the spine within 10 seconds. Once you inhale it, it starts to erode your lungs and esophagus; you start drowning in your own blood. Your nervous system starts to seize up, your muscles freeze, and you start to spasm with enough force to break your back and cough your innards out. But that's after your skin melts into a puddle of goo and your eyeballs turn into liquid and drizzle down your face. And all the while, your internal organs are slowly being dissolved into liquid. Imagine that." Kimmler said with a smile.

"Edward, is what he just described possible?" Armstrong asked.

"He just gave a very rundown version of the weapon. We can't reveal the exact specifics, but yes, that is what it does. And yes, we do have it. Whether we'll use it on Drachma or not remains to be seen. And while I can't reveal how much I have, that's secret information, I can tell you this." Edward said. He grabbed a shot glass and filled it halfway with vodka. Holding in the air,

"The actual name of the weapon is a secret, but we nicknamed it 'Devil's Breath.' If this was it, this little bit in this tiny shot glass would be more than enough to kill every man and women in the Central Command Center."

The three Amestrian soldiers started at Edward.

"That's impossible, no such weapon exists." Buccaneer scoffed.

"They're impossible to you because you've never fathomed such things. In my world, weapons like this are practically commonplace." Hughes remarked.

"Well, not this one. I created it to combat super-soldiers. Regular biological and chemical weapons were useless against them."

"Why the need to create a new weapon? Because of these, these super-soldiers?" Miles asked.

"Yes, exactly because of them. Every major country on Earth has their own army of super-soldiers." Bradley said.

"What exactly does the term mean, super-soldier?" Armstrong asked, returning to the table with several more bottles of booze.

"Remember the Homunculi? How they were physically stronger and faster than a normal human? Essentially, that's what a super-soldier is, without the near-immortality. But with our augmentations, we're very difficult to kill." Edward said, filling up another shot glass.

"What sort of augmentation?" Buccaneer asked.

"It all depends, really. Usually based on rank and your current physical condition. The higher your rank is, the more options you can have for your physical augmentation. Standard rank-and-file soldiers and enlisted personnel get the standard procedures; super-speed and super-strength and basic eye implants that enable a person to see in the dark via night vision. Also, their lungs are changed to enable them to choke down any sort of airborne virus without killing them, and basic internal organs are replaced with stronger versions. Your bones are augmented as well, an organic alloy is pumped into your bone marrow, makes your bones more dense, less liable to break. The higher your rank, the more options you receive, I won't go into them at the moment.

Now, for physical condition, depends on your body. If you're missing limbs, you can either get them cloned, or go for prosthetics. Like the Admiral. However, despite all our advances, there is still a limit to how far you can go. Eventually, you reach a limit to how much your body can be augmented."

"Sounds like a very large project to handle." Armstrong said slowly.

"Every country had their own versions. We currently have the best, but even we still have several bad eggs in the whole batch. Took a while for the project to get off the ground, we had a lot of failures in the beginning. But once it took off, it expanded like you couldn't believe. Now, when you sign up, you become a super-soldier, regardless of the military branch you serve in." Hughes remarked.

"I'm just gonna ask: if you were to suddenly declare war against Amestris, who would win?" Armstrong asked.

"Well, I wouldn't want to invade. The casualties on both sides wouldn't be worth it. My men are super-soldiers, and we do have air power and the ability to hit targets from miles away. But, my soldiers have never fought alchemists before, and Amestris is your home, you'll fight like crazy to defend it. I strongly believe I would win, but I'd probably sustain very heavy casualties in the process. Amestris would suffer unbelievable loss of life, probably to the point I would make the Amestrians extinct." While it was probably true, Edward knew he also had the option of using nuclear weapons against Amestris. Those were his most powerful weapons in his arsenal, but he wouldn't use them unless he had no choice.

"Admiral, do you believe we can win against Drachma?" Miles asked.

"As long as we give the public the victories they want, then we will win. In case you haven't noticed, wars are very expensive."

"Yeah, try telling that to the Fuhrer." Armstrong sniffed.

"I have ways of getting my point across." Edward said with a smile that sent shivers up the General's back.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Edward Elric, Olivia Armstrong_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Alphonse Elric_

* * *

November 2nd, 1917

Rockbell &amp; Garfiel Automail

Central City, Amestris

"This has to be the hardest transmutation circle ever. There's got to be something Brother isn't telling us. Something only he would know." Al sighed, rubbing his neck.

"But he told us everything we needed to know. What more could he reveal to us?" May asked. Al laced his fingers together, resting his head on his hands. He thought hard about his current task.

_A large fleet of ships in a storm, and this transmutation circle appears out of nowhere, and sends them here. Didn't brother say he built those ships to fight a war?_

"What if, what if he built a weapon of some sort that utilized alchemy?" he said slowly.

"You do realize that's only applicable in our world, Al." Mustang said, leaning over the younger Elric's shoulder.

"Yeah. But remember what Brother said, he was able to create a weapon on his ship that prevented us from using alchemy there. Don't you think it's possible that Ed built a weapon using alchemy and brought him home?"

"Remember Al, it wasn't just him. An entire fleet of ships came with him. Men and women who have been at war, who haven't seen their families in years. I don't think Edward would bring all his soldiers with him to his home if that was his plan. Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but I don't think your theory holds any water." Mustang replied gently.

"I'm just... Goddammit, why can't I figure this cocksucker out?!" Al yelled. His use of curse words surprised everyone. During his time in Ishval, the coarse language of the American Marines slightly rubbed off on him. Al wished it hadn't, but it did.

"We'll figure it out, son. We just need to be patient." Hohenheim said gently.

"I've gone through all the texts in Central Library and the University concerning alchemy. Twice. Ling's shipped as many books on Alkahestry from Xing that he could, and my friends in Creta gave me some texts about alchemy from that country."

"Still nothing?" Mustang asked, surprised at the lengths that Al went to figure out the circle that brought Carrier Strike Group 21 to their world.

"Nothing. Fuhrer, I know I've asked before, but I need the texts from the 5th Branch."

"That's restricted to State Alchemists only, Al. You know that. I can't let you see them without proper access." That got the gears in Al's head turning. If his Brother was able to be a State Alchemist for the sole purpose of bringing his body back, then couldn't he do the same to help his brother send his troops home to their families and loved ones?

* * *

November 24th, 1917

Ft. Briggs

Amestris

"Well, that oughta do it. Remember, if you have any problems, ask any of my men, they'll take care of it." Edward reminded the Amestrian private.

"Yes sir, I'll remember it. Gotta thank you for all these new weapons. It's been a while, but the next time the Drachmans come at us, we'll really mop the floor with them, won't we sir?" the Briggs private asked with a grin.

"Don't get cocky, soldier, or you'll end up six feet under." Edward chastised as he left the rooftop. Admiral Elric was busy helping a Briggs private re-align the firing pin on one of his 135mm Artillery piece. For almost a month, Edward and his troops had busied themselves installing more weapons on Ft. Briggs, as well as additional snipers in the surrounding mountains, along with barb wire, claymore and trip-wire mines, motion-activated sensors to alert the Fort, automated turrets, and anti-personal missile pods, and anti-aircraft guns dotted the landscape. General Armstrong was very impressed with all the weapons that Edward had brought to the Fort. She, along with every other soldier stationed there, felt that Fort Briggs could withstand any assault the Drachmans could throw at them. In her office, she reviewed the latest weapons that were delivered.

_Bofor 40mm anti-aircraft cannons, AD-1 anti-personal rockets, Browning M2 .50 caliber machine-guns, M134 7.62 Miniguns, DT1 Surface-to-Air Missiles, and a large shipment of Claymore mines. The numbers of all these weapons, though... why the hell would he need all this just to protect a single fort? I can't imagine what he would bring to bear if he went on the offense._

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Enter." She said coldly. Edward Elric stepped in. He was only wearing his boots, fingerless gloves, arctic-camouflage combat pants, and a gun belt with two dark black Colt .45 Single Action Army 'Peacemaker' revolvers. He also wore a combat harness on his torso that held his combat knife, his Desert Eagle, and three clips of ammunition. Edward also carried an M2 .50 cal 'Ma Deuce' heavy machine gun in his hands and had several belts of .50 cal HEAP/I rounds slung across his chest. And to top it all off, an XM 250 .50 cal sniper rifle 'railgun' with an M203 grenade launcher attached to the rifle was slung across his back. To sum it up, although he was short, he looked ready to take on all of Ft. Briggs and win. And that was _without_ his Exo-skeleton suit.

"You sent for me, General?" he asked, saluting with his left hand. His right still held the large gun.

"Yes, I did. Sit down, please." She gestured. Only after Edward removed his impressive array of weapons did he sit.

"So, what do you need?" Edward asked.

"I've been going over this list of weapons that have been delivered. Honestly, and no disrespect to your men and women, but think they may have miscounted." She said, handing the list over. After a quick glance,

"No, everything's exact. Everything I have, it's standard armaments for base defense."

"This is standard?" Olivia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You should see what I bring to the table for an offensive operation. Which, if Fuhrer Mustang's balls ever do drop, might happen sooner than you think." Edward said with a smile. Olivia chuckled a bit at his statement.

"Wouldn't that be the day. Hard to believe a man like him made the rank of Fuhrer. Been downsizing the military ever since he took control. By the way, how did you know he's been doing that?"

Edward knew he couldn't reveal how he got that information, from his SEAL Team raid into Central Command. Although he liked General Armstrong-_a lot_-and regarded her as his equal, he didn't fully trust her yet.

"I've been around the block. Just by looking around the state of the various military installations in and around Amestris, it's a sign that the military has been downsized. And the Drachmans realize that and are taking advantage of it." Edward sighed heavily.

"If you're so sure of an assault into Drachma, why don't you do it yourself?"

"As much as I'd love to, I try not to interfere with another military, I try to work with them. I tried that once, interfering with another country, and it ended up in disaster. A lot of good men and women got killed. So, I'm trying to not repeat my past mistakes. What do you think of my weapons?"

"I'm very impressed, to be honest, I can't wait to see the look on the Drachmans faces when they see what we can throw back at them. Might make them think twice about attacking Briggs."

"Just don't be afraid to send my Marines in." Edward smiled.

"That's another thing I wanted to ask. Why is it that out of all the Americans stationed here at Briggs, you're the only one without a jacket, let alone a shirt? You should be freezing up here."

"Have you ever gone skinny dipping in the Arctic Ocean?"

"Obviously not."

"Then you don't know what cold really is. This is nothing to me." Edward replied, a cocky smile on his face.

"So you've been augmented to withstand extreme temperatures, and your men haven't?" Olivia asked with a sly smile.

"Let me put it like this. My soldiers and I could fight the Drachmans out in the snow butt-naked and it wouldn't bother us one bit."

"Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Want me to demonstrate for you?" before she could answer, the alarm sounded.

"Well, looks like you'll get to see what my toys can do." Edward said as he quickly decorated his muscular torso with his weapons and ammo. Likewise, Armstrong grabbed her sword and handgun and led the way to the rooftop, where Amestrian and American soldiers alike prepared for a battle. Problem was, there was nothing there!

"Who sounded the alarm?" Armstrong asked angrily.

"They did it because something's out there. Lieutenant, it's your watch, what'd you find?" Edward asked. Armstrong noticed a change in the Admiral. When he was in her office, his guard was let down slightly, he seemed a little more open, a little more cocky and playful. Out here in a possible battle, he was cool, calm, collected, and ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

"5 degrees to the right from center mass, Admiral. Looked like a small recon of enemy soldiers."

"How'd they get past the mines?"

"We haven't set up the Claymore mines in that position, sir. Or any defensive weaponry for that matter, sir."

Edward stared at the aforementioned spot through the scope of his sniper rifle.

"Permission to smoke 'em, sir?" the Lieutenant asked. 'Smoke 'em' was a common term for using the AD-1 anti-personal rockets in combat, although they were very effective, one design flaw was the rockets tended to leave behind a very thick cloud of smoke when they hit their target, very thicker than normal.

"Denied. Let's not waste these rockets until they send their entire army out here. General Armstrong, would you like to accompany me in scaring some Drachmans away from your fort?" Edward asked with a grin.

"It would be my pleasure." She replied.

* * *

(Several minutes later...)

"I'll keep sending up flares ever so often, don't send the choppers after us unless the flares stop flying. Understand?" Admiral Elric gave stern orders to Lieutenant Madsen.

"Yes sir. We'll be ready for your return." Armstrong gave similar orders to Miles, basically all she told him was that he was in charge of Ft. Briggs until she and Admiral Elric came back. Down in the snow, the two officers trudged forward. Olivia had her family-heirloom sword, two pistols, several clips and a sniper rifle. A thick coat protected her from the cold. Edward had an Exo-skeleton suit, an AR-85 assault rifle, an XM 250 'railgun' sniper rifle on his back, his revolvers, two Desert Eagle handguns, two M1911 handguns, several dozen clips, a knife, and a large amount of grenades and explosives.

"You do realize we're just killing a small group of Drachmans. Probably just a small squad sent to spy on the fort. I don't think there's a need to carry so many weapons with us."

"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst." Was all Edward replied. The walk in the snow grew a little silent until Edward opened up again.

"General, I know that at this current time, it may seem ridiculous, but I have some requests to ask of you."

"And they are?"

"First, I want to bring my dog to the fort. He's a big Siberian Husky, very well trained, a military dog. He loves this kind of weather, and he'll be a very great asset to the fort. He can sniff out threats that no-one else can, and I mean that literally."

"You do know that I don't allow pets at Ft. Briggs."

"Technically, he is my pet. But he's a very valued member of my crew. He's been in combat, he'll know what to expect."

"Alright, you can bring him. But I do expect you to take care of him."

"Relax, he won't piss in the hallways, he's too smart for that." Edward replied with a smirk. His eyes, however, remained angry and determined.

"Your other requests?"

"Just one. I'd like residence at Ft. Briggs. If I'm gonna be bringing in more troops and weapons into your wall, it would be more efficient if I was there to move things more smoothly, then having to fly in from my ships."

"I can manage that. But aren't you worried about your ships?"

"Bradley is more than capable of commanding my fleet, he's done it plenty of times before. I trust him." Edward replied.

"Now, when you say the fleet, do you mean just your ships you have here?"

"Just my ships. It's a task force named Carrier Strike Group-21, it's only a very small portion of the entire Navy."

"And exactly how many ships do you have with you?"

"187 ships in total. Now, if you want to know how big the actual Navy is, I can't reveal that to you." Edward said with a slight smirk. Olivia decided to not press the matter any further, wanting to concentrate on the current mission.

"So what's the plan?" she asked.

"Find them and kill them. Simple." Edward smiled. _Is he serious? He has to know a mission, even a simple one like this, is more complicated than that._

"And how exactly do you plan on accomplishing this?" she asked.

"Well, we do know where they're hiding out. We just need to shoot them down before they report back to their army." Edward smirked.

* * *

**Next chapter will be up in a couple of weeks, if not sooner. Read and review!**


	17. Chapter 16

**I'm back! I'll be updating this story more frequently now, the business I had to deal with the past few days is done and in the past! Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 16

November 24th, 1917

Ft. Briggs

Amestris

"Contact Baschool, tell them to get some Blackhawks ready for the Admiral. I want them back at Briggs ASAP." Lieutenant Madsen ordered. Up on the top of the fort, the Irish-American lieutenant stared out at the battlefield, flanked by Major Miles and Cpt. Buccaneer.

"Gotta give credit where it's due, you Briggs men sure know your stuff. All the hell you've all been through... you'd fit well with the Marine Corps. Admiral Elric told me that himself a few days ago."

"Yeah, and that General of yours, she's a tough one. I can definitely tell there's something going on between her and the Admiral." Another American remarked.

"Yeah, let's just hope she doesn't have a hidden fortress like Edward did with the _USS Enterprise_." A slightly loudmouth Marine chuckled.

"Oh, bullshit, Ryan, the _Enterprise_ was destroyed, I saw it happen! Got hit with two torpedoes and five anti-ship missiles in the Midwest sector of the Indian Ocean! I saw it go under!" Madsen replied.

"Okay, I'm confused. Is this something we should know about, or is it none of our business?" Buccaneer asked.

"I'll tell you the story. The _Enterprise_ that we're referring to was the Gerald R. Ford-class supercarrier _USS Enterprise CVN-80._ Like I said, it was hit by two torpedoes and five missiles in the Indian Ocean. Burst into flames and went under. End of story."

"No, there's more to it. See, while it's true that the carrier was sunk, I heard from several buddies of mine that the Admiral had it raised from the dead several months later and turned it into a ghost ship. Meaning, it's still in active service, but doesn't exist on paper." Pvt. Kel Varnsen said with a smile.

"Did you actually see the ship yourself?" Miles asked.

"No, but several buddies of mine say they saw the _USS America_ escort several transport ships to the _Enterprise_ under the cover of darkness, dropped off several hundred prisoners onboard where Admiral Elric had them all tortured, killed and disposed of. Trust me, that's what happened." Varnsen said.

"Why don't we ask the Admiral himself when he gets back?" Miles replied, not believing the Marines.

* * *

November 24th, 1917

A few yards north of Ft. Briggs

Drachma

Completely oblivious to the rumors being spread about him at Ft. Briggs, Fleet Admiral Edward Elric sat motionless in a rather large tree, his eyes gazing through the scope of his sniper rifle. The sky was dark, sparkling with the night stars. Below, the Drachmans had set up camp for the night before heading back to their main army, which was a considerable distance away.

_25 Drachmans. One hell of a massive bonfire. They're all just sitting there around it, with that big tank of gas next to them. They have no idea the Ice Queen and I are sitting up here. Time to change all that._

"General, you see what large gas tank?" Edward whispered.

"Yes, I see it."

"Auf Wiedersehen." Edward muttered as he pulled the trigger. The explosion vaporized almost all the soldiers, leaving the last one alive scrambling for his horse.

"Bullseye." Edward smirked. Olivia Armstrong was very impressed.

"What does that thing shoot?" she asked. Edward racked the bolt on his XM250 rifle and handed the round over. She stared at the large size of the round. Not even mounted machine guns in the Amestrian Army fired rounds this big.

"You Americans sure like your guns big and strong, don't you?" she asked.

"That's not the only thing we have big and strong." Edward smirked as he reloaded a fresh clip into the gun. As the Drachman officer scrambled to get on his horse,

"Would you like to?" Edward asked, offering his massive rifle to the Amestrian general. However, despite that Olivia was a very strong soldier, the rifle was heavier then she had anticipated, and the sheer length was something she wasn't used to. In order to remedy that situation, Edward positioned his body so his legs and arms were securely fastened to the large tree branches General Armstrong had nestled herself in. Edward also extended the bipod so the rifle would rest on his chest. Which meant that Armstrong would have to lie her body down on Edward to use the weapon effectively, which she did.

"Not a word to anyone at the fort. Understand?" she asked, leaning closer to the American admiral.

"Understood." Edward replied. Olivia followed the Drachman soldier as he rode away. His horse, however, seemed frightened by something and stood up on its hind-legs, giving the General the perfect shot. She quickly squeezed off two rounds. The recoil of the gun was unlike anything she felt; she was sure if her shoulder wasn't broken, it would be sorely bruised in the morning. What really stunned her, however, was that the two rounds utterly destroyed the Drachman rider and his horse;_ they were lying in large, bloody scraps of meat in the snow!_

"Seriously, what does this gun shoot?" Olivia asked, staring at the bloody display.

"My bullets explode once they hit their target, whether it's a human body or a steel plate." Edward muttered.

"Remind me to never get into a shooting match with you."

"Sure thing." Edward smiled as he pulled up on the tree branches. However, that simple action caused the branches to break off the tree, sending the two to the ground.

"That'll wake you up faster than coffee, that's for sure." Edward laughed when he realized what happened. Nevertheless, he was back on his feet, rifle in hand, and ready to fight. Olivia was impressed with how fast he moved.

"Well, we accomplished our mission, let's get back to Briggs." Edward said, swapping out his sniper rifle for his assault rifle.

"Should we call for one of your helicopters to pick us up?" Olivia asked.

"No, too dangerous. If the Drachmans manage to shoot it down, however unlikely that is, or if it crashes and the Drachmans scavenge it, they could theoretically reverse-engineer it and build their own versions. It would take a good while, but I just can't risk it. We're gonna have to hump it back to the fort. Besides, I'm glad for that opportunity."

"The opportunity being?"

"I've been thinking of mining the front of Ft. Briggs, the large valley in front of it. So when the next army comes to invade Amestris, we can blast them to pieces."

"Couldn't we do that with all the weapons you've slapped on my fort and the surrounding mountains?"

"The more firepower we can bring to bear, the better."

"Fair enough. My question, however, is this: if you wish to invade Drachma, wouldn't the mines get in the way?"

Edward was silent as he realized that General Armstrong was right.

"Screw you, General." Edward responded almost playfully. Olivia simply laughed. Edward and Olivia didn't really know why, but the two simply felt comfortable with each other. Granted, Edward felt comfortable with his top officers on his ship, but there was something about General Armstrong; he couldn't help but enjoy being around her. Olivia felt the same way as well; while she could be harsh with her troops, she was never harsh with Edward.

At first, she kept telling herself that it was because Edward never interfered with her command; he was only there to help augment the defenses of her fort. But the more he stayed at Briggs, she kept seeing another side of him that she never thought possible. She saw the way he interacted with all the soldiers, Amestrian and American. She had the feeling that Edward was the type of commander that preferred to be at the front line with his troops and wouldn't leave until all his men and women left the battlefield. As a military officer, that was something she admired greatly.

It didn't help their situation, however, that due to their relaxed state with each other, rumors began circulating around the fort that the Ice Queen, the Northern Wall of Briggs, General Olivia Armstrong and the Iron Eagle of America, Fleet Admiral Edward Elric were in a relationship. No one dared to say it to their faces, much less while they were within earshot, but the two knew the rumors were floating around. However, they weren't the only rumors around the fort.

Rumors about some rather dark, horrific, inhumane actions that Edward took during World War III made their way around Briggs as well.

Like most other rumors, no one dared to ask Edward about them. But Olivia couldn't help but notice a change in the American troopers whenever they spoke about those certain rumors. Whether it was they were genuinely afraid of their commanding officer or they simply had no idea if they were true or not, they simply did not know. Olivia would be lying if she said she wasn't interested in knowing if they were true or not, but decided to not press the issue. If Edward ever did address the rumors, then that would be his decision. However, they had more pressing matters at hand. A storm had started rolling in, and fast.

"Dammit. We need to find shelter, and fast! Can't risk sending anyone out to grab us! Over there, we'll take shelter in that cave!" Edward yelled. Unfortunately, it started to snow. Pretty heavy as well. By the time they got in, the two were covered in snow.

"Damn blizzard. Can't make our way back to Briggs unless you want to freeze your ass off." Edward sighed.

"So what happened to you saying you could fight the Drachmans naked and not be bothered by it?" Olivia smirked, shedding her weapons.

"My soldiers and I can do that, easily. You, on the other hand, can't do such a thing without getting frostbite. Just because you're an Armstrong doesn't mean you're super-human." Edward muttered, dropping his weapons and tossing his explosives in the corner. It was just their luck that this cave had some very dry wood in the corner. A lot of dry wood. The two couldn't help but wonder if this cave was used by Drachmans in the past. Using his flares, Edward set the wood on fire, filling the cave with much-needed warmth. Grabbing his rifle, Edward walked to the entrance of the cave, grabbing his com-set.

"Lt. Madsen, this is Admiral Elric, do you read?"

"_I read you, Admiral, where is your current position?"_

"General Armstrong and I got caught in this blizzard, we're holing up in a cave for the night. Do not, I repeat, do not send any choppers out. Wait until the storm passes over. Major Miles is to be in charge of the fort until we return. Understand?"

"_Understood. What about CSG-21, sir?"_

"Tell Bradley he's in command until I return."

"_Copy that. We just picked up your position. Permission to drop off an emergency bundle, sir?"_

"Fine, go ahead. But no aircraft in the skies after that."

"_Understood."_

Within minutes, a large duffel bag slammed into the ground at the entrance, just barely missing the claymore mines and tripwires Edward had set up.

"What's in the bag?" Olivia asked.

"Some rations, fire-starter equipment, and sleeping bags rated for temperatures 150 below zero. There's other shit here as well, but all I care about is the sleeping bags." Edward muttered, tossing his rifle to the side rather carelessly.

"Are you sure you should be tossing your weapon so carelessly?" Armstrong asked.

"My rifles are the strongest small arms ever built; you can leave them in a pile of mud for weeks, dig it up and it'll shoot just fine. I had all my weapons built like that." Edward smirked as he removed his Exo-skeleton. By now, the fire was a good, decent size. Edward grabbed a large emergency cloak from the bag and wrapped it around him and General Armstrong to warm them up. Surprisingly, she didn't resist. She wouldn't admit it, but damn she was cold!

"Thanks. How are you doing that?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"Warming us up so quickly. I don't think it has to do with the cloak."

"I don't know why, but I have the ability to warm my internal core enough so, in a tightly enclosed space like this, the person next to me feels that warmth as well."

Armstrong wasn't complaining. For a brief moment, the two held each other, letting their bodies warm each other. The fire helped warm up the cave, along with the intimate setting as well. Deciding to get into a more comfortable position, though, Edward pulled out one of the large sleeping bags and the two crawled inside, hugging each other tightly to keep the other warm.

"Can I ask you something, Edward?"

"Sure."

"What's your plan with Drachma? I mean, how are you going to defeat them, exactly?"

"Kill as many of them as I can. Destroy their industrial cities, factories, stuff like that. Crippling their means to wage war is one of my main goals, along with pushing north."

"What made you push so hard for an invasion of Drachma? Thanks to Mustang's De-Militarization Act, we're not in the best shape to invade another country."

"If you hit a schoolyard bully hard enough in the nose, he'll realize you mean business and he'll leave you alone. If we strike Drachma hard, in their land, it might be enough to get them to leave." Edward rambled.

"You've really changed, you know that?" Olivia whispered. At this point, the two had gotten even more physically closer. Edward's hands were now settled on her waist, and Olivia was practically straddling the Admiral.

"I know." Edward whispered. Their lips softly touched, but soon gave way to more passionate kissing. The two began removing their clothes, tossing them to the side. Within seconds, the two officers were naked and admiring each other's bodies. Edward leaned his head forward and latched his lips to Olivia's rather large breasts, causing her to gasp in pleasure. In response, she slowly ran her fingers down Edward's well-defined abs to his stiffening erection.

_Shit, how big is this guy?!_ Was her first thought when she grabbed him, stroking him up and down his impressive length.

"Damn, that feels good." Edward hissed.

"Glad you like that." she smirked. She leaned forward and sucked his neck, earning a soft moan from the Admiral. Sucking his neck, she decided to move south, licking and sucking his various scars and cuts. Which were _very_ plentiful, making her wonder just what kind of hell he went through to receive this many. She had a few scars on her body, but _nothing_ like what Edward had. She pushed those thoughts out of her head as she wrapped her full lips around Edward's tip, causing him to suck in a tight breath.

Satisfied she had him where she wanted him, she proceeded to deep throat him, not realizing his sheer length and girth made it nearly impossible. That didn't stop her, listening to the moans of the Admiral spurred her actions. However, what she didn't realize was that as a super-soldier, Edward possessed far greater stamina than a normal human, so he could engage in sexual acts for longer periods of time before climaxing. He viewed it more as a curse than a blessing, though.

Removing herself from Ed's genitals, she straddled the man's hips and slammed on Edward's manhood. The two cried out in sheer pleasure, but Olivia was rather shocked at how large Edward was. Nevertheless, she continued to grind her hips against the Admiral's, thoroughly enjoying the sensations she was feeling. The cave was filled with Edward's and Olivia's lustful moans, and the two forgot about the blizzard outside. At the moment, it was just the two of them. Olivia's walls began tighten, squeezing Edward's manhood. Edward began thrusting harder into the Amazon-like goddess above her, causing her to cry out louder as he slammed into her g-spot.

"Oh yes, right there! Yes, right there, Edward!" she yelled. After a few more thrusts, Olivia climaxed; the Admiral enjoying the feeling greatly.

"You're still hard?" Olivia asked, gently rocking her hips.

"I've a higher rate of stamina than a normal person, I can last longer." Edward sighed.

"Why don't we fix that." she smirked as she crawled down to his crotch. Sandwiching his manhood between her double-D breasts, she proceeded to bounce her beautiful orbs up and down his throbbing member, causing the super-soldier to moan loudly. Not wanting Olivia to be completely in charge, however, Edward somewhat gently pulled her up to his level and then flipped them around so he was on the top. And then pinned her arms down to the ground above her head with his right arm. As strong as she was, she couldn't remove his arm. Not that she wanted to, though.

Edward softly pressed his lips against her neck while his left hand traveled down her body. He gently traced her large breasts, lazily circling his calloused fingers on her smooth skin. Moving down, he stopped and began sucking her nipples rather hungrily. Olivia leaned her head back and moaned loudly, gasping Edward's name lustfully. That was enough for Edward to finish her off, thrusting into her. His super-soldier strength only helped her ecstatic feelings grow. Another orgasm sent ripples through her body, but that didn't stop Edward from thrusting into her.

For a while, the inside of the cave was filled with the sounds of the fire crackling and the sounds of Admiral Edward Elric and General Olivia Armstrong making love to each other. Eventually, the two finished, crying their names in the cold air.

"Well, looks like all those rumors about us being together are true." Edward smiled weakly. Olivia simply laughed at that as she snuggled closer to the Admiral.

* * *

November 25th, 1917

Ft. Briggs

Briggs Mountain Range

Amestris

"Anything?" Miles asked.

"Chopper #882, this is Lt. Madsen, did you find the Northern Wall and the Iron Eagle?" Madsen asked. Again, he got static.

"Damn. Chopper #882, this is Ft. Briggs. Are you receiving this, over?"

"_We're barely picking you up. Say again, over?"_

"Did you find the packages?"

"_Madsen, its Elric. Armstrong and I are heading back to Briggs. Give us a damn warning the next time you send a chopper after us._" Edward berated.

"How much you wanna bet those two slept with each other last night?" Madsen asked.

"I don't know. No one here at Briggs would dare challenge General Armstrong, she's more of a tigress that can't be tamed." Buccaneer smiled.

"Hmm. Well, let's see if the Iron Eagle has tamed the Ice Queen." Madsen muttered, popping a cigeratte.

"_Lt. Madsen, we can still hear you. And since we're talking with Briggs at the moment, I might as well tell you the news: Admiral Elric will be a resident of Ft. Briggs for the time being, and he'll take on command duties with me as well. Is that clear?_" Olivia barked.

"Yes sir." The radio then cut off.

"Yeah, they slept with each other." Madsen grinned.

"So, is there anything we should know about Elric?" Miles asked.

"Well, he's a very tough commander, and a strict one as well. Cares for his troops and will do anything for them, but at the same time… well, if you get to the point where you shit bricks just by being in the same room with him, then he's doing his job correctly. Now, we have two rules when working underneath him: Always obey his orders, and never wake him up during a nightmare."

"And if you disobey them?" Buccaneer asked.

"He'll kill you without a second thought."

* * *

February 4th, 1918

Ft. Briggs

Briggs Mountain Range

Amestris

Before Admiral Elric came to Ft. Briggs, no one believed they would have a tougher commanding officer than General Armstrong. But Edward beat her by far. Strict didn't come close to his command style; it was very harsh. Although he did love the soldiers under his command, if you were incompetent or didn't perform to the best of your ability, he had you transferred to a different position. Like Armstrong, he didn't spare the rod. However, he was always quick to point out exactly their current situation, being out on the front lines required constant focus and vigilance at all times. It also required that everyone be at their best condition.

Currently, he was down in the main gym where a large boxing ring had been set up. It was a large sparring map, the brainchild of the Bear of Briggs, Cpt. Buccaneer. He was widely regarded as the so-called champion of Ft. Briggs, no one had been able to best him in hand-to-hand combat yet. None of the American troopers fought him yet. Edward had ordered them not to, for fear of them severely injuring or killing Buccaneer in the ring. Although he was the strongest in Ft. Briggs, he was still nowhere near the skill, speed and strength of the American super-soldiers. At the moment, Buccaneer was currently grappling with a large Amestrian private. However, thanks to his custom automail arm, the 'Mad Bear G', he had given him a few slashes and cuts. Nothing very serious, but the man did bleed. And he wasn't the only one. There were a few Amestrian soldiers watching Buccaneer spar with his opponent that had cuts and slash marks, the doctors were busy attending to them.

Edward simply shook his head; this wasn't the way you prepared your troops for battle. _Seems to me that Buccaneer is only doing this to prove he's the best. Well, he'll find out he isn't._

Edward dropped his jacket on the steel chair and opened the cage.

"I'll challenge you." Edward smirked.

"Kick his ass, Admiral!" "Show him how America does it!" "Knock him out, Iron Eagle!" were among the cheers from the American soldiers.

"So, you won't allow your soldiers to spar, but you will?"

"I guess you could say I got a death wish." Edward replied with a rather strange grin. And with that, he suddenly pinned Buccaneer to the wall. His movement was more like a blur to everyone watching. Despite being incredibly smaller, the Iron Eagle was overwhelmingly stronger and faster than the Bear of Briggs. While his right arm held the large Amestrian to the wall, Edward has punched his left arm into the solid steel wall next to Buccaneer's head-all the way to his armpit. Buccaneer was stunned. Edward was simply amused.

"Let's dance, Captain." Edward replied. The cold tone of his voice put Buccaneer on edge.

* * *

(A few hours later...)

By now, the whole fort had heard of Edward and Buccaneer's sparring match. The entire gym seemed crowded with soldiers, both Amestrian and American. The match had moved from the ring to the center of the gym, the two shirtless, muscular warriors engaged in hand-to-hand combat. General Armstrong, Major Miles and Lt. Madsen were watching from the catwalk above.

While Edward looked perfectly fine-if you discounted all the scars and bruises he received from World War III-Buccaneer didn't look so well. He had a slight limp on his left leg, his left arm wasn't able to extend all the way, a slight shiner on his left eye, and several bruises dotting his torso. Edward leapt forward with another flurry of kicks, jabs and hard punches that Buccaneer had a hard time blocking. Several of Edward's blows connected, bringing more pain to the Captain.

"You rely too much on your brute strength and your sheer size to win. But all that mass makes you slow in your movements. You're not light on your feet, which will also spell doom." Edward observed, kicking Buccaneer's legs out from under him. He then slammed his right boot in the Amestrian's ribs, the force causing him to flip around onto his back.

"You're not a bad fighter, but you've gotten very prideful in your status as the Bear of Briggs. So let's see which can be broken first. Your body… or your spirit." And with that, he then picked him up and held him above his head. While that would've been a near-impossible feat by even the men of Briggs, Edward didn't even register how heavy Buccaneer was.

At that point, all the Americans pulled out their Desert Eagle handguns, aiming them at their commanding officer.

"He's had enough, Admiral. Put him down now." Lt. Madsen declared.

"You know those guns can't scratch me." Edward replied with a cocky grin.

"Maybe not, but we're not gonna let you break his back and paralyze him." Madsen growled.

"I could have you all shot for threatening a superior officer. But I won't. You actually have my thanks for stopping me. Don't hesitate to light me up if I do something like that again." Edward said as he put Buccaneer back on his feet, helping him to the infirmary.

"What just happened?" Armstrong asked as all the men began shuffling out, back to their duties.

"What do you mean?" Madsen asked, holstering his pistol.

"He said your guns couldn't scratch him. What'd he mean by that?"

"That's classified."

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Ft. Briggs

Briggs Mountain Range

Amestris

General Armstrong slowly woke up, her arms wrapped around Edward's naked, muscular, war-torn chest. Edward was still asleep. His left arm was on Olivia's back, hugging her close. His right arm was underneath the pillow, clutching the M1911 Colt .45 he kept underneath. Even though he was sleeping peacefully-as peaceful as the mentally unstable Fleet Admiral could-he was always ready for a fight. Hence the gun under the pillow. That, or he was extremely paranoid.

Olivia was about to wake Edward up, but decided not to. _He could use the sleep._ She thought. She remembered after they were rescued from the cave via helicopter that Edward had requested a separate room for him. She said yes, but had wondered why at the time. She soon found out that night, along with everyone else in the hallway. His horrendously loud nightmares, which woke everyone up and _kept_ them up for the rest of the night. The Americans extreme nonchalance towards that showed Armstrong that it was something they were completely used to. Something she would have to get used to as well. However, she noticed something else as well. Whenever the two spent a night together, he didn't have any nightmares. None at all. Of course, it didn't help his sleeping habits that he was almost always the first to wake at Ft. Briggs and the last to sleep after he personally inspected all the inner and outer defenses of the fortress. Edward was lucky to get at least 5 hours of sleep, if at all.

While she mulled that over, she took the opportunity to inspect his body. She usually did almost every night when they made love to each other, but that was usually with her lips and tongue. This time, it would be with her eyes.

_Where the hell did he get all these scars? He's a soldier, but even the most battle hardened soldiers shouldn't get this torn. Gunshot wounds, some stab marks, looks like he got cut a lot. Some light bruising on his chest, the really big bruise on his ribs. Looks like he was burned as well. Where the hell did he get all this?_ She thought to herself as she lazily traced a scar running from his right shoulder that led up his neck to his face, where it mingled with the other scars on his face. That was when she noticed some faint scars on his eyelids. Being a battle-hardened soldier, and the Northern Wall of Briggs, she wasn't terribly repulsed by that sight. But it did stun her. To her, it looked like Edward had been tortured very badly, unless a grenade just happened to explode next to his head and he survived.

She glanced over at the clock. _Can't let sleeping beauty sleep in all day_. She thought. A smirk crept on her face as she thought of how to wake him up. She crawled down the bed until she was positioned next to his crotch. Looking up, she gently licked the tip of Edward's manhood, noticing that he let out a very soft moan. She began kissing his manhood, causing Edward to moan. His gold eyes popped open and he stared down.

"Wanna take it to the shower?" he asked with a scoundrel grin, tossing his gun on the table.

* * *

(Some time later...)

Edward inhaled the cold air as he stared at the fields of Drachma just north of Ft. Briggs. He glanced back to the rear and smirked; above the 'Green Dragon' flag of Amestris, which was already a large piece, flew an even larger 'Star-Spangled Banner.' He knew as long as the Stars and Stripes flew at the base, any American soldier would fight to the death to protect the installation. Glancing at the row of missile pods and high-caliber machine guns, he thought to himself

_The Drachmans are gonna mess with the wrong country when they attack us again. You might strike us again, but we'll fight back, to the last man if necessary. So bring your best shot, suckers, we'll be waiting for you._

"Thought I'd see you up here." The Ice Queen's cold voice broke the Admiral out of his thoughts.

"Good to see you too, General." Admiral Elric replied. Armstrong walked up next to Edward, taking in the view.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Olivia asked.

"Nothing. Just taking in the view. And wondering when the hell we're gonna invade."

"Well, that might be sooner than you think. I just finished talking to Commander Bradley, he wants to speak with Mustang about the use of some weapons you have that require political authority for use."

Edward smiled.

"Devil's Breath. There's a reason it needs presidential authority for me to use it. It's too dangerous. That also reminds me, I need to talk to him also."

"What for?"

Edward would've answered, but was interrupted by Miles.

"Admiral Elric, there's a message for you from Central."

Edward sighed. Down in the radio room,

"Ft. Briggs, Elric speaking."

"_Admiral, its Mustang. Listen, something happened here in Central, and I need you down here immediately._"

"Can you be more specific?"

"_Just meet me at my home. You know where it is?_"

"That big-ass mansion that rivals the Armstrong Estate? Yeah, how could I not? Big house for a man with a big ego. Tell me, did you build that to compensate for something else?"

"_Look who's talking, Fullmetal, about the size of your ship._"

"Yes, well, there's a difference between your mansion and my flagship: yours is just a big house. My ship was built for combat, and it does its job very well."

"_I don't doubt that._" Mustang replied.

"Alright, I'll be there." After hanging up,

"What was all that about?" Armstrong asked.

"Something in Central happened, he wants me there at his home. Don't know what it's about."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose Buccaneer and I can come with you. I want to speak to the Xingese Emperor about him deploying his troops with us to Drachma, and Buccaneer needs to get his automail repaired."

"Why would he go to Central to get it fixed?"

"Name an automail engineer you're familiar with who lives in Central." Armstrong smirked.

"Winry. She always made the best." Edward muttered, remembering when he still had Amestrian automail. It was 15 years for him... He then noticed an Amestrian officer whisper something to the general.

"Miles will be going with us as well. He wants to speak with Mustang about the current affairs concerning Ishval, how they will affect our current status with Drachma."

"Hmm. So, three of the base commanders will be away from the most northern Amestrian military outpost during a war." _Recipe for disaster._

Trusting that Lt. Madsen and Lt. Henschel would hold down the fort-after Edward and Olivia gave the two explicit instructions to notify them _immediately_ if the Drachmans started attacking-the four climbed in a Humvee and headed to Northern Command for the long train ride to Central.

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Central City, Amestris

Edward glanced around occasionally at the buildings of Central City. He could only wonder why Mustang needed him here so urgently. Granted, flying would've been quicker, but due to the lack of attacks and the threat of blizzards striking at any moment, Edward had all the choppers and gunships taken back to the fleet so they wouldn't get damaged in the frigid cold. And he had done that a few weeks ago. His thoughts were interrupted when he pulled up to a red light and saw another Humvee next to him as well. Rolling down his window,

"Going to see Mustang?!"

"Know where he's at, Admiral?" Bradley replied.

"Just follow me!" Edward yelled. He noticed that Hughes, Kimmler and Comstock were in the Humvee as well. He could only wonder why Bradley brought the others as well. As they continued to drive to Mustang's house, Edward suddenly realized that the two most powerful military installations, Ft. Briggs and his Navy Battlegroup, were now effectively leaderless. Granted, General Armstrong and Admiral Elric had trained their officers to command their respective posts should the main CO's be put out of action, but still. Ft. Briggs was a tempting target for the Drachmans, and there was no one else to compare to Edward's style of command back at his Fleet. With his Command Staff in Central City, the chief engineer of the _USS America_, Lt. Archer Ackerson, would be next in line to command. Edward liked the man, but honestly did not feel he was ready for such a massive duty like commanding CSG-21.

Nevertheless, he put it all behind as he drove into the parking lot of Mustang's Mansion. And there were a lot of vehicles there, all of them civilian. The two Humvee's would definitely stand out, notwithstanding the large GAU-19 .50-cal Gatling Guns on their tops.

"What's going on, Admiral?" Bradley asked.

"No idea, Commander." Edward sighed. Regardless, the Americans chambered their Desert Eagles, ready for anything.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but do the American military have dress uniforms or just camouflage uniforms?" Miles asked.

"We use the dress for formal occasions. We just wear the camouflage the rest of the time because… well, can't really answer that. Something about being in a war, it's only been around 9 months since the end of World War III, shit like that." Envy replied with a grin. In all honesty, though, Edward and his officers really didn't know the answer to Miles question. Why did they go around in their camouflage uniforms all the time?

The Amestrians took the time to observe their comrades. The style of how they wore their uniforms as well told volumes about the wearer of the uniform. While Bradley, Hughes and Kimmler kept their uniforms neat and proper, Edward and Envy had their jackets open and out over their pants, revealing their _incredibly_ muscular bodies. It didn't matter, though. Even if they all kept their jackets closed and tucked in, their muscles would still be seen _very_ clearly. While all five of them tucked their pants in their boots, Edward and Envy had a slightly sloppier look than the other three.

They all had loaded side arms in their holsters, but Edward, Envy and Bradley openly carried their guns in their hands, while Hughes and Kimmler simply kept their side arms in their holsters. While they all had fingerless gloves, Edward, Envy and Bradley actually wore them, while Hughes and Kimmler kept their gloves in their pockets.

They also noticed something about their mannerisms as well. Hughes and Kimmler had the aura of being more gentlemen-like, while Bradley, Envy and Edward had a more brutal, thuggish feel about them. Indeed, Hughes and Kimmler had the nickname of 'Sherlock &amp; Holmes' because whenever the two were tasked with investigating an incident within the US Military, they did so with hardly any bloodshed, and they were very thorough. Edward secretly called the two his own private detectives. Bradley, Edward and Envy, on the other hand, preferred beating and torturing their victims to near-death to get their information.

What also helped was their physical status as well. Hughes and Kimmler, while muscular, had more lean bodies, giving them a more friendly appearance. Edward, Envy, and Bradley, however, were _very_ bulked up in terms of muscle, giving them a more intimidating look. The Amestrians simply filed that away as they watched Edward walk up to the ornately decorated door, rapping his knuckles against the wood while quickly putting his large pistol away. The door opened up-

"Good to see you, Edward Elric!" came the booming voice of the Strong-Arm Alchemist. Despite his superhuman speed, Edward didn't have time to dodge Alex and found himself in a rib-crushing hug.

"Get off me, Armstrong!" Edward yelled. Personally, the American officers found it humorous that such a massive, muscular man like Alex Armstrong could make the feared Iron Eagle of America somewhat squeamish. Until Edward flipped the large alchemist on his back. Hard. Alex stared up at the Admiral in surprise. Despite that Alex was much taller and bigger, even he wasn't as strong as Edward.

"My goodness, where did you learn that?" he asked.

"A little trick I learned from the Spetznaz, the Russian Special Forces that I trained with. They're very good at what they do." Edward said with a grin, extending his hand to help the Major up to his feet.

"So, there's the special guest." Mustang's voice came from behind.

"I wouldn't say I'm special, you asked me to come here, and so I did. And by the looks of all the cars and all the people inside the building, what, you got some sort of party or something?" Edward asked, resting his hands on his belt rather casually. Almost too casually. It was then Edward noticed a flash of light from the backyard.

"May I ask what's going on?" Edward asked, his hand resting above his gun.

"Your brother took the State Alchemist Exam."

"He did? When?" Edward asked.

"Yesterday evening. Passed with flying colors."

"Shit, I gotta congratulate him then." Edward said with a smile. As Mustang invited everyone in his home, including Edward's officers, absolutely _no one_ had a clue that Edward was faking it. Not even Edward's own top officers from his ship, whom he had served with for years, could tell. He was _not_ happy that his own little brother was now, in essence, a human weapon.

_But wait. Unless I'm wrong, the State Alchemists have changed. They're more for civilian work, using their talents in the schools and universities, not the military. Of course, I had to have that damn speech about changing the program back to the original Special Forces unit they originally were, so unless Mustang decided to ignore my_-

"Brother, there you are!" Al exclaimed, hugging the Navy commander. Edward returned the hug, a slight twinge of guilt shooting through his body. He had been so worked up with getting Ft. Briggs ready for battle, that he had neglected his own brother. If he had known that Al was gonna be a State Alchemist...

"Good to see you, Al! What's going on here?" Edward asked, although he had a very good idea of what was going on, given the new information Fuhrer Mustang had given him.

"Did you hear the news? I became a State Alchemist last night."

"Was this all of a sudden?"

"No, I had the idea a while back. But it took a while because Mustang said he was following your advice, changing the State Alchemist program back to what it originally was."

_Damn him for following my advice, and damn myself for having such a big fucking mouth. I got shit ton of Navy SEAL's, Green Berets, and Army Rangers in the fleet, I don't need the damn State Alchemists._ Edward mentally cursed himself.

"So, what kind of crazy name did you get?" Edward asked with a smile. No one, not even his own brother, could tell it was fake.

"The Soul-Healer Alchemist."

"What? How'd you come up with that?" Edward asked.

"Well, apart from his soul being stuck to a suit to a suit of armor, thanks to your doing-" that bit of information made the American officers raise their eyebrows. None of them knew that Edward had performed a Blood Seal that turned Al into a living suit of armor. It made them wonder, just what else he never told them from his life in Amestris before he came to the USA.

"-he's been very successful with medical Alkahestry and medical alchemy. As part of the test, we brought in some soldiers from the hospital who didn't mind being used as guinea pigs. A couple gunshot wounds, some sprained ankles, stuff like that. Healed them all right there. And he also gave us a demonstration of what he could do with regular alchemy as well." Mustang summed up.

"What, with the pillars I'm seeing?" Edward pointed to the rock structures behind him. Several tall pillars about half a meter in width and 3 meters tall with very ornately decorated sculptures on the top were in the backyard.

"Just a combination of alchemy and Alkahestry."

"Mind explaining it to me?" Ed asked. He honestly didn't care about how it all worked, what he cared about the most was the fact that his brother was now a State Alchemist.

"Sure. You know a lot about alchemy, so I'll explain about-"

"The alchemy isn't what I meant." Edward sighed.

"So what did you mean?" Al asked, confused.

"Can we talk somewhere in private?"

* * *

Ed had to hand it to Mustang, his library was pretty impressive. Considering that the Fuhrer was an alchemist, it was no surprise. It had a very cozy, make-yourself-at-home feel it. Al sat down on the leather couch, watching his older brother pace the floor in front of him. For good measure, Edward had left his handgun outside.

"What the hell are you doing, Al?" Edward asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Being a State Alchemist, that's what I mean! What-what, the fuck are you doing this for?! It's not like someone forced you to do it!" Edward yelled.

"I thought you'd be proud that I'm trying to help!" Al yelled, getting angry.

"Proud?! You think I'd be proud that my little brother is selling his soul to be a human weapon?! What, you want to kill as many Drachmans you can?! Win the fucking Congressional Medal of Honor?! You're doing this for what?! Money, glory, fame?! Want the prestige that comes from being a State Alchemist?!" Edward yelled.

"Brother, this is something-"

"I don't wanna know your so-called reasons, Al, you're turning in your certification! I don't wanna see you in Drachma when the shit hits the fan!"

Al stood up, glaring at his brother. His much stronger, more lethal, military brother. Ed returned the glare.

"Al, I sacrificed a lot for you. I gave up my ability to use alchemy, something I loved very dearly, for the brother I loved even more. I gave it up so you could get your body back, so you wouldn't have to live as an empty shell for the rest of your life. And now you're gonna go fight the war, use it as a damn pin-cushion for enemy bullets and shrapnel?

You know something, Al? You remind me of so many young men and women that I've led in battle. All your age, all young, dumb and full of cum. Full of energy and anger. 'Where are the Russians? Let me at 'em. When are we gonna invade China?' Guess what happens to them. A few days later, you're lying on the ground, body peppered with bullets and shrapnel. You're holding what's left of your guts with your hands, while you're screaming for your mom and begging for a damn medic to save you.

And your buddies will lie to you, saying that you're gonna be okay. And guess who gets to write the letter to your family, spouting out bullshit saying you died a hero in a battle that changed the course of the war, when you really died in some small ditch in the ass end of nowhere?! THAT'S GONNA BE ME! I'VE BURIED PLENTY OF SOLDIERS, BUT I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO BURY YOU, MY OWN BROTHER!" Edward finished.

"You really think that's gonna happen to me?" Al asked incredously.

"YOU'RE GONNA DIE OUT THERE, ALPHONSE! AND I DON'T WANNA SEE THAT HAPPEN!" Edward bellowed.

"Brother, with your weapons and my alchemy, we can win-"

"Aw, Christ, please tell me you're not gonna put your stock in my weapons! They're just tools, Al! All that- You know what, I'm done. You're turning in that certification, and you'll do it now." Edward growled.

"No."

"If you want to be a soldier, you need to learn to follow orders."

"I'm not giving up the license just yet."

The two Elric brothers stared at each other. It would be so easy for Edward to simply slam his younger brother down and wrench the watch from him. But that would only make matters worse. And he wouldn't force him to hand it over at gunpoint, he wanted to change that stance.

"How about this. Let's hold a sparring match. You and me, no-one else. No alchemy, no Alkahestry, no guns or grenades, just martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. If you can pin my shoulders to the ground, you can not only keep your certification, but you can fight in Drachma with me. If you lose, you have to turn in your papers and your watch to Fuhrer Mustang here in front of everyone else. Do we have a deal?" Ed asked.

"Deal." Al smirked, clasping his brother's hand. As the two hugged, which was more like a congratulatory slap on their backs, Al whispered smugly,

"Best of luck, Brother." To which the Fleet Admiral responded,

"I'm gonna make you bleed." He said it in a very demonic voice that sent shivers down Al's back.

* * *

**The fight between Ed and Al will take place next chapter. Any ideas, tips and suggestions would be very helpful. Also, the War against Drachma will begin in the next chapter as well, and Edward will pull out a secret weapon of his. I already have an idea of what it is, (it has to do with his aircraft carriers) but any suggestions would be appreciated. Read and review, please!**

**Also, check out Ctreuse109, his artwork of Edward Elric for this story.**

**This is the link: **** art/Co-co-commissions-3-593974611**


	18. Chapter 17

**Hello, people! Sorry about the long wait, this chapter wasn't easy to write because of some reasons: 1) writer's block. 2) slight lack of inspiration/motivation to continue the story. 3) work has been a real bitch. Hopefully I can update this story more quickly. Read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

Fullmetal's War Ch. 17

February 5th, 1918

Fuhrer Mustang's Mansion

Central City, Amestris

"LOOK, DAMMIT!" came the cry of Lieutenant Commander Maes Hughes. Currently, he was holding Fuhrer Roy Mustang down on the ground, shoving one of his _many_ pictures of his wife and daughter to the man's face. Roy had his eyes closed tight, not wanting to let the American super-soldier win. Bradley, Comstock and Kimmler were sitting on the couch, amused grins on their face.

"Hughes, I've seen the pictures dozens of times before, now get off me!" Roy yelled.

"But you've only seen the pictures of the Hughes family from this world, not my world! You have to see how adorable my little Elicia is, just a wonderful ray of sunshine-" Hughes ranted.

"Will you three help me or not?!" Mustang asked, referring to the other three American super-soldiers.

"And get tortured by this lunatic, no thank you! He's already shown us his pictures of his family to last another lifetime, once is already enough!" Envy laughed.

"Thanks for the help, Lieutenant Commander!" Mustang replied sarcastically.

"Anytime, boss!" the pilot responded with a grin.

"Hughes, please, enough is enough!" Mustang yelled. He tried to push the super-soldier off, wondering how the hell he had gotten in this situation. After Ed and Al went inside, everyone went inside to get comfortable, waiting for the two Elric brothers to return. The conversation and general atmosphere was very friendly, everyone chatted with each other like they had been friends for a long time.

"But you haven't seen Elicia on her tricycle, she used to follow me around wherever I would go!"

"Get off me, Hughes!" Mustang growled, knowing his situation was hopeless.

"Just one more picture-" Hughes was interrupted when a pair of black, lace-up combat boots came into his field of vision. He looked up and saw Admiral Elric standing over him.

"How's it going, boss?" Hughes asked with a smile.

"What, did you just get out of the prison from _Cool Hand Luke?"_ Edward joked. Hughes simply chuckled as he got to his feet, much to the relief of Mustang, whom Edward helped to his feet.

"So, I take it Hughes gave you his 'Welcoming Committee'?" Edward smirked.

"Yeah." Mustang grumbled. Ed then did something very random: he began disarming himself. He removed the large blade from his prosthetic, his combat knife from his belt, another knife he kept strapped to his right leg, and two throwing knives.

"What's with all the knives?" Zampano asked. Edward paused, then grabbed the large blade that came from his prosthetic arm, slapped it back on, and then it suddenly shot back into his arm.

"That's a neat trick." Ling observed.

"Bradley, Hughes, Comstock, Kimmler, I got an assignment for you. Alphonse und ich werde Holm vor der Tur. Wenn es auf den Punkt, wo ich ernstaft verletzen werde oder sogar mein Bruder toten, sind Ihr Auftrage die Scharfschutzengewhere nutzen, um mich zu legen. Verstanden?" Edward asked. In German. The Americans understood, but everyone else in the room thought he was speaking gibberish.

"You sure, Ed?" Envy asked.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Edward glanced, taking his jacket off. With that, he and Al walked out the front door.

"Fuck it, let's get this over with." Hughes sighed.

"Wait, get what over with?" Winry asked.

The Navy officers said nothing as they walked outside. Wanting to know _just what the hell was going on_, everyone else followed outside as well. Ed and Al stood out on the massive front grounds, both shirtless. Al was in a fighting stance, while Ed just stood there with his hands in his pockets.

Everyone took the opportunity to observe the two brothers. Physically, they looked very similar, yet different. True, Al was taller, but only by about a few inches. Although the two were sported muscular builds, Al was leaner, giving him a taller, friendlier appearance. Ed, on the other hand, was far more muscular, giving him a more intimidating appearance. However, due to all the muscle mass, at a first glance, one might mistake him for being shorter than he really was.

Probably the biggest difference was the fact that Ed bore a very large amount of scars and bruises on his skin. Al only had a few light, barely noticeable scars on his face from when Ed smashed the beer bottle on his face.

"Change of plans, Al. You can use your alchemy if you want. Level up the playing field, but you'll still lose." Ed said in a bored tone.

"Just try it." Al muttered. He charged his older brother in an attempt to tackle him. Edward simply dodged him, making Al trip and fall on the ground.

"What, you forget how to walk or something? You lose your muscles trapped in the Gate?" Edward smirked. Growling, Al came up with a quick combination of jabs, punches and kicks.

Everyone-except the Americans-knew that Al had grown to be a very capable hand-to-hand fighter.

"I must say, the younger Elric seems to be doing well out there." Bradley mused.

"Those two were always fighting over something. Especially when they were kids. Al would always win those fights." Winry said with a soft smile.

"Really? Then the beating he received at the cabin should've been a warning sign to him. No one fights Admiral Elric without getting hurt somehow." Bradley muttered to himself.

"Aw, give the boy some credit, King. He looks like he's able to hold his own against Ed." Hughes remarked.

"Have you forgotten just what he is, Lieutenant Commander? What he is capable of doing? Remember that old facility high in the mountains of the Alaska Range? All the troopers and vehicles they had in stock? If he went through all that like it was nothing, what makes you think that boy can stand a chance against Edward? He's holding himself back, nothing more." Bradley whispered in Hughes ear. Hughes said nothing-because he knew, deep down, he knew that Bradley was right.

_If Edward can fight his way out of an experimental military facility buck naked with only his hands against 400 CIA Spec-Op super-soldiers, then his brother doesn't stand a chance. None of us do. Especially if he remembers what he really is... _Hughes thought grimly to himself.

Bradley's words were true. Edward was really holding himself back from go all out on his younger brother. He actually wasn't taking any offensive action at all. All he was doing was dodging everything Al was throwing at him. And insulting him to boot.

"Come on Al, too busy switching beds between Winry and May? All that pussy must be making you tired, huh?" the Admiral asked in a very cocky manner. Al got to his feet, catching his breath.

_I don't know what the United States did to him, but he's nothing like he used to be. Back then, I always beat him in a fight. But now... how did he gain that kind of speed? He's too fast for me to match._ Al thought to himself, breathing heavily.

_Not a bad fighter. Has a good stance, good moves. Too slow for me, but that's to be expected. His only problem is, he's naïve and he loses his cool when I toss an insult to him. That's gonna get him killed._ Edward thought to himself as he light up a cigarette.

"Wanna call it a draw, Brother?" Al sighed heavily.

"Only when you pin me." Edward smiled. Al hung his head.

"Aw, what's the matter, prag? Can't take the burn? No pain, no gain. Maybe you forget all that due how long your body was in the gate." Edward snarked.

"Prag?" Al asked, confused.

"It means if we were in prison, you'd be my bitch!" Edward cackled.

"Aw, Christ. Not this again." Bradley, Hughes, Envy and Kimmler all sighed, pinching their noses.

"I mean, you're a pretty good looking kid. You got a nice ass, too. The kind that girls like. Which, behind bars, is a bad thing. Because if you ever went to jail, the Aryans and the Homeboys would have you for dinner and desert." Edward said with a large grin. Al growled and charged his brother again.

After a few minutes of one-sided fighting, Al finally collapsed on the ground, completely spent and exhausted.

"Where... where did... where did you learn... to move like... that?" Al gasped, breathing for air.

"I've been trained by the Navy Seals, the British SAS and the Russian Spetznaz. They're the top three Special Forces regiments you can train in, at least in my opinion. Not to mention I have over 10 years of combat under my belt. Now, I want to ask you something: Why did you fight me?"

Al simply looked up at his older brother. Ed had his hands on his hips, his head slightly cocked to the left. His gold, cybernetically-enhanced eyes glazed over his younger brother, scanning for any hidden weapons, anything that could-

_Stop thinking like that. Even if Al had a gun, it's not like he knows how to use it. Even if he did, it can't hurt me... Could it?_

Ed brushed aside those thoughts and waited for the answer.

"You saved my life brother, now it's time for me to save yours." Al sighed.

"What the fuck does that mean? I don't need-" Edward stopped himself as he suddenly knew what Al was referring to. Edward didn't need protection, he was more than capable of taking care of himself.

_But he's my brother. For two years, he thought I was dead. He had to have searched for anything to get me back, and once I come home, I shove a gun to his face? I threaten my own country with nuclear bombardment? No. He deserves much better than that. They all do. I don't know why he's joining the military, but I'm gonna step up to the plate and help him every step of the way._ Edward slowly walked over to his brother, helping him to his feet.

"Thanks Al." Edward whispered as he embraced his younger sibling in a hug.

"For what?"

"For making me realize that I've been an ass all this time. You deserve much better than that." Edward whispered.

"You're still my brother, nothing can change that." Al replied.

_If only you knew, Al. If only you knew of all the things I've done. If only the government would get a move on and find everything I've done so they can finally put me in front of the firing squad. Would you still love me then?_ Were Edward's thoughts.

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Fleet Admiral of the Navy, Edward Elric_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Soul-Healer Alchemist, Alphonse Elric_

* * *

February 5th, 1918

CFX-150 USS America

Carrier Strike Group-21

Science Lab #1-A, Deck 3, Corridor 2C x Section 3A

New Pearl Harbor, Aerugo

Although the USS America, the flagship of the United States Navy, was an aircraft carrier that carried enough guns, torpedoes, missiles and overall firepower to make any Navy battlegroup green with envy, and an air wing that would make any other Air Force or Navy in the world quiver with fear, (except for the United States of course) what many people didn't know was that it came with a couple of very advanced science laboratories that would make any other civilian lab look like child's play in comparison.

Although they were designed for the use of building Bio-Chemical WMD's, they also had other purposes as well. If the ship was attacked or infected by a disease or virus, natural or man-made, a cure or antidote could be built in the labs. If one of the crewmembers came down with a very infectious disease the sickbays couldn't handle, the labs could be used as quarantine. For all the many different uses the laboratories held, Admiral Elric had never envisioned them to be used to house several thousand Philosopher Stones from Aerugo. As a result, he had security increased dramatically, despite that the vast majority of the troops were up north. So he compensated; automated turrets, claymore mines, booby traps, metal detectors every three feet leading into and out of the lab, increased security cameras and microphones, additional dogs and K-9 units, you name it. Green Berets and Army Rangers guarded the only entrance to the lab, armed with full Exo-skeleton suits, M134 Mini-guns, M2 Browning .50 cal HMG's, and D14 'Toss-and-Forget' rocket launchers. Needless to say, _no-one _would be getting inside the lab except Admiral Elric.

As further proof of Edward's paranoia concerning the Philosopher Stones, any person going in and out was stripped naked and given a very, _very _thorough body-cavity search when they entered and left the lab. If it weren't for the fact that the full crew of the ship were battle-hardened veterans, everyone would say that Edward was getting too paranoid about the ruby-colored stones, despite that they had no idea how they were created or what they could be used for.

"... Well, time to see what else is going on with these rubies." Technician 2nd-class Tom H. Anderson muttered as he walked into the room, putting his jacket off, absentmindedly noticing the handgun in his jacket-holster.

"Anything new, Jack?" Tom asked.

"Nope. Still giving off the same old heat signature you're supposed to see on thermal. You think the Admiral would tell us more about these stones, what makes them so important to warrant such important security."

"Man, we're just some lowly technicians, he's the Fleet Admiral; he doesn't need to tell us anything. Let me see those files from last night."

After a few minutes…

"Wait, this can't be right." Tom muttered.

"What can't? Tom, what's wrong?"

"Jack, take a look at these readings. You see that?"

"Yeah. Ok, check the thermal imager. See if it's busted. If not, check the AA-1 scanner. After that, check the TK-4 thermal array. Should we contact the Admiral?"

Jack was reaching for the phone, ready to make the call. "No. Let's check this out some more. If it gets too bad, then we make the call."

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Fuhrer Mustang's Home

Central City, Amestris

"You don't trust me, do you?" Envy asked, his massive, muscular arms folded across his well-defined chest.

"Not really. To be honest, I'm still having the urge to burn you alive right now. The only thing stopping me is because Edward threatened to attack us if Amestrian troops did any physical damage to you Americans." Mustang responded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Wait, what did he say exactly?" Envy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This was when he started deploying troops to Ishval to rebuild it. The general gist was that if any of them were attacked by Amestrians, he would consider it an act of war and respond in kind." Envy sighed heavily, face palming as he did so.

"I take it he never informed you?"

"It's the first time I heard of such a threat."

"Is he serious about it?" Mustang asked, leaning against the rail. Envy pulled out a cigarette and lite it up, inhaling the tobacco deeply.

"If he was, he would've done it a long time ago." Envy sighed.

_So he only threatened us just so we'd leave his soldiers alone?_ Mustang thought.

"Some of his threats are empty, but a lot of his threats will have weight behind them. I've been with him for years, and I've yet to tell the difference. I can't help you there, Fuhrer. Now, concerning the matter of air power... Look, I can't give you the designs of the planes the Navy uses at the moment. They're too advanced for your country to build, and you couldn't afford them."

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect my country." Mustang said a little forcefully.

"I understand that, but you need to realize that a project like this will take time. A lot of time. You can't just build a few airplanes from scratch and expect to have a large air force the day after. It's gonna take a lot of trial-and-error runs, a lot of failures, and a lot of money. It's gonna require a lot of manpower, materials, shipping costs, labor costs... get my drift?" Envy asked.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"My honest suggestion? Let me handle who controls the skies. I can give you some blueprints for aircraft that I believe Amestris can manufacture, but I when it comes to using them, I can't help you. I can't spare any pilots at the moment."

"Why do I get the feeling this is gonna be a bigger project than I envisioned?" Mustang sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"You're only doing what you think is best for your country. Honestly, it's worth it. Take it from a pilot with combat experience, the ability to defend your land from the air is a very powerful military asset."

"So, I take it the United States has a powerful air military?"

"Outside of the US, most countries have an air force consisting of around 500 to 700 aircraft. Russia and China each boasted about 3,000 aircraft in their air force."

"That seems like a good amount."

"The United States Air Force has a total of 7,321 aircraft in active service, with another 1,000 in reserve." Envy smiled, knowing full well that he had lied to the Fuhrer. The USAF had a _much larger_ complement of aircraft than the number he dropped. Mustang's eyes went wide.

"That's 8,321 aircraft at your disposal."

"Yup. Now, outside the US, most countries with a Navy only have three or four aircraft carriers, and most of them can only carry around 40 various air vehicles."

"So, a country from your world can four of these aircraft carriers, meaning-"

"Meaning they can deploy 160 air vehicles at sea."

"And the United States?" Mustang asked almost hesitantly.

"Just one of our standard supercarriers can carry up to 95 aircraft. We have 19 of them in the entire fleet. And then there is the flagship, which carries up to 300 craft."

After doing the math,

"You can wield 2,105 aircraft in the ocean?"

"And that's only the supercarriers. That doesn't include the 21 light carriers, each of which can carry up to 20 VTOL jets, or the 35 escort carriers, that can each carry 30 craft. Tally it all up, means we can operate a total of 3,575 at sea."

"So, the Air Force and Navy combined means you have 11,896 military aircraft." Mustang said, stunned at the numbers. He had no idea that Envy had lied to him, the numbers were bigger than that.

"But, I take it the size of my military isn't what concerns you. Look, we only have 1,250 aircraft with us at the moment, down at the fleet. It's small, it's nothing. Look, you wanted my advice, this is it: let us handle the skies, you take care of the ground. When the war is over, we can help you build your own air force. That's all I can say." Envy sighed, somewhat irritated. Mustang wasn't so sure if he really helped or not.

"How do I know you're not giving me any information-?"

"Mustang, you may think you're all big and bad, you may think you're the best, but we could've turned your country into an uninhabitable wasteland any time we wanted. You're absolutely no threat to us. You say you don't trust me? Well, I don't trust you as well. I know your type. You care about those beneath you, and I can admire that. You seem to be a smart man, but you're cunning, sly, manipulative, and over-cocky and overconfident. That's a bad combo. And it's gonna get a lot of good people killed before it's over."

"What makes you think you know anything about me?" Mustang asked.

"But you don't deny any of it?" the pilot asked. The Flame Alchemist didn't reply.

"So can I ask you something? Why do you have that look in your eyes that you want to kill me whenever I see you?" Envy asked.

"Your counterpart, a Homunculus named Envy, shot and killed my best friend, Maes Hughes. He's dead, I burned him to death. You look and sound just like him, only more muscular. But..."

"But what?"

"It seems so strange to me, to see you and Hughes get along so well. Part of me wishes it wasn't that way."

"That's too bad, Mustang." A voice came from behind. It was Hughes.

"How-how long-"

"Long enough." Hughes started, motioning for the pilot to leave. Once he was gone, "Look, I know about the circumstances about my counterparts' death. I don't care. You seem like a good man, Fuhrer. But you need to get over my counterpart's death and move on. You got your revenge against the Homunculus that killed him, so don't take it out on my friend."

"You would honestly call him your friend?" Mustang asked skeptically.

"Yes, I can. I'm not asking you to like him, or to forgive. I'm asking you to forget, move on, and also to leave him alone." Just as he was about to leave,

"Hughes, why do you defend him?"

"Are you a family man, Mustang?" Hughes asked.

"I do have a wife, but no children at the moment. But I consider the men in my immediate unit like a family, of sorts."

"And wouldn't you do anything for your wife? For your men?"

"Of course I would."

"Well, that's what the Navy is like. A really big family. We take care of our own, and we watch each other's backs. Concerning John, he's actually a good man once you get to know him. He does have his sadistic tendencies, and if you're on the receiving end of his wrath, it's painful, but deep down, he's not a bad man to be friends with. And considering that we're gonna be fighting together, I would highly suggest you get all the friends you can get on your side."

"I have one more question."

"Shoot."

"Envy said you Americans had over 11,000 aircraft at your disposal in your entire military. Is that true?" Hughes pinched his nose, sighing in irritation.

"John is a very trustworthy man, and he tells the truth a lot. Thing is, he likes to boast a lot about our military strength. But enough of that chit-chat, we can discuss that later. It's a big day for Alphonse, what do we got planned for his celebration?" Hughes smiled, going back to his cheery self.

"Alright, you got a point. It is Al's big day after all. I want to know one thing. What were you and your officers holding underneath the cloth sheets during Ed and Al's fight?"

"Sniper rifles. Ed gave us orders to gun him down if he started beating Al to the point of being hospitalized."

That little bit of information practically floored the Fuhrer.

_What the hell happened to him? Why would he wish for something like that?_

* * *

On the upper balcony, Ed and Al were talking.

"Where'd you learn to move like that? The only people I've seen that move like you do are the Homunculi. Not-not that I'm calling you a Homunculus or anything-"

"Al, it's alright. I'm not a Homunculus. The only reason I can move like that, well, I explained it earlier, back the Fuhrer's cabin. I'm a super-soldier. My body has been changed to be stronger and faster than a normal person. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Can't explain it any more than that." Edward noticed that Al had stiffened a little when he mentioned the cabin.

"Brother..."

"I should've warned everyone about my nightmares. If I had, maybe things would've turned out differently."

"Maybe." Al said softly. At that point, Edward scoffed.

"I'm doing exactly what I tell my soldiers not to do. When shit happens in the field, you spend hours thinking what could've gone differently, during those five minutes of chaos. Just can't dwell on it, accept it and move on." Edward muttered.

"What's it like? Being on the battlefield? I mean, we've both fought, both against each other and against the Homunculi." Al stated.

"And Scar, and Teacher, and countless others." Edward chuckled at that. He suddenly felt a pang of... was it guilt for killing his former teacher? He couldn't quite place what the feeling was, but he knew for a fact that he could never reveal that he was the one that took her life.

_Doesn't matter, does it? Had the place completely cleaned out and the bodies destroyed completely. As far as Al is concerned, she, Sig and Mason went on an extremely long vacation with no indication as to when they would return._ Edward quickly thought to himself.

_Aren't you trying to change, though? Keep this a secret, you'll be right back to where you started. The Navy Admiral that has his own share of secrets, and would rather go to the grave then release them. The Navy Admiral who kills for shock value and doesn't think twice about it. Who are you gonna be, hmm?_ The annoying voice in the back of his head came back with a vengeance.

"Yeah. I bet you could probably give Teacher a run for her money now. If she ever gets back from her vacation, that is." Al said almost sadly. Edward didn't say anything about that.

"Hey Al? Can I ask you something? Why did you become a State Alchemist?"

"It has to do about that Transmutation Circle that brought your ships here. I've been looking it over ever since you came back. Amestrian Alchemy, Xingese Alkahestry, alchemy from Creta, even alchemy from Xerxes. I've looked at all the books in the University, but nothing has come up. There are some texts in the main library I can use, but those are for State Alchemists only."

"And you figure by using those notes, you could figure out a way to send my troops home." Edward finished.

"Yeah, that's right. Can I ask you something, Brother?"

"Go ahead." Edward muttered, popping a cigarette in his mouth.

"I don't want to come off as rude, but I'm just curious as to why you haven't helped us out with figuring out the circle."

"I can't read alchemy anymore. Can't even do the basics." Edward said nonchalantly. Al simply stared. His own brother, the famed Fullmetal Alchemist, the child prodigy who not only attempted human transmutation, but bonded his soul to a suit of armor successfully, who still held the record for the youngest applicant to the State Alchemist program, (and passed) couldn't read alchemy anymore?

"Yeah, can't do it. I mean, I can still recognize a transmutation circle, and I can pick apart the coding an alchemist uses to cover his secrets, but that's it. I can't make heads or tails of even the most basic transmutation circle. Now on the other hand, I can take apart and reassemble an AIM-120 heat-seeking air-to-air missile wearing a blindfold in 2 minutes." Edward replied with a smile.

"When... when you gave up your ability to use alchemy, did the Truth take away your ability to read it as well?" Al asked, stunned by his brother's recent admission.

"I don't think so. I remember when I first got to Earth, during those first few months at Marine boot camp, I was still seeing things as an alchemic code. Had to learn to get rid of that, because alchemy doesn't exist in the other world, just a myth."

"A world without alchemy, kinda hard to imagine." Al muttered, leaning against the balcony.

"Ah, I got used to it." Edward smiled.

"Can I ask you something Edward?"

"Sure."

"This might be very difficult for you to answer, but I'd like to know: What's it like to kill another person?" Al asked almost hesitantly. Edward stiffened for a moment. He then relaxed, but never said anything. Al took this as a sign to leave and started to-

"I can still remember the first time I took another being's life. I can't reveal the location and the circumstances, that's top secret. What I can reveal, though... well, it's not pretty. You don't really forget something like that, but you do get used to it. It doesn't feel good, though. One of the first medal's I ever got was just by shooting an enemy combatant. He wasn't much older than you, just a kid. It was with this gun, even." Edward muttered, pulling out his Desert Eagle.

"I ask because... well, with this whole thing with Drachma, and the State Alchemists being sent to the front lines, I just wanted to know." Al replied. Edward sighed, pinching his nose.

"There is no amount of training that can prepare you for that. Now, I want to give you some advice." Edward turned to look Al right in the eyes, his gold eyes harder than tungsten steel.

"Don't ever ask a veteran soldier if he or she has killed another person." Al took the hint.

"Now, can I ask you something?" Edward asked.

"Sure."

"How good are you with a firearm?"

"Well, I'll be taking lessons from Riza-I mean, General Mustang, tomorrow." Al corrected himself.

"Eh, Riza's a good choice. Probably the best damn shot in all of Amestris, if you discount the Americans." Edward said, puffing on a cigarette.

"You said your Marines were 100 times better when it came to shooting, right?"

"Yup. Most dangerous weapon in the world? A Marine and His Rifle." Edward smiled. There was a look of pride in his gold eyes as he remembered when he had served in the Marine Corps. To him, that was a home and a family he would never forget. An idea then popped in his head.

"Hey Al, I got an idea. Can you put up a target in the back yard?"

"Easy. Why?"

"Have you ever shot .45 Colt revolver?"

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Northern Drachma

Unidentified Drachman City [Believed to be Capital City of Drachma]

Massive Drachman zeppelins gracefully soared over the gleaming capital city. The Directive Chancellor of Drachma, Illynav Borya, inhaled the cold air through his nose.

"Chancellor? Consultant Hakuro has arrived." his aide interrupted the leader's thoughts.

"Yes... yes. Send him in, please." Borya sighed. Walking away from his balcony, he sat down at his desk, lighting a cigar. The aforementioned man walked in. General, now Consultant, Hakuro, formerly of the Amestrian State Military. Now he was serving in an advisory capacity for Drachma.

"Chancellor. I have the latest reports from our tests." Hakuro said, passing a red folder over to the elderly leader. A slightly receding hairline, his dark black hair slicked back, and standing at 5'9" with no noticeable features that stood out, Directive Chancellor Illynav Borya could pass off as any other regular joe on the street. It was what made him so dangerous, what made him the leader of Drachma. No one ever suspected him during his rise to power until it was too late.

"Hmm. I see the new soldiers are working well. How soon can we begin deployment of this Immortals?"

"I would estimate in about 3, maybe 4 weeks. I'm sorry, I can't move it along any further. And then there is the possibility of using your airships to drop the Immortals from the sky into Amestris, deploy them that way." Hakuro remarked, pouring himself a glass of Drachman brandy.

"That is a good idea. Let's see if we can make that a possibility. Now, how are the tests going at Facility #1-A9?"

"Well, the chimera's are showing promise. I've been trying to combine them with the Immortals to create an unstoppable force. The problem is getting the alchemists who know such knowledge. These, these alkahestrists we've abducted from Xing... we need Alchemists. Those who know about chimera's."

"Alright. Dispose of the Xingese people. See if you can't grab some alchemists from Northern Amestris. Let's get this project on the move."

Hakuro got up and walked to the door.

"Oh, and give word to our forces in the Voryukt Fields that they are to move out immediately. Keep Amestris on their toes until our plans are complete."

"Yes sir."

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Southern Drachma

Fields of Voryukt

"Ft. Briggs, this is Ghost-Actual. Over?"

"_Ghost-Actual, this is Lt. Madsen. We copy you. News for us?_"

"I'm reading 50,000 plus Drachman troops moving south, along with armor and mobile artillery. Bi-planes and Zeppelins in the sky as well. We do not have the means to effectively engage them. Over."

"_Fuck. The Ghosts have two choices. Pull back to Briggs and help with the assist, or continue wreaking havoc elsewhere. Your call, Major Winters."_

"We'll pull south as best we can and do our best to remain undetected, but at some point we'll have to break off. We spotted a large castle on top on that mountain range a while back, been itching to check it out."

"_Roger, we'll cut the leash. We'll inform Admiral Elric, General Armstrong, Central Command and CSG-21."_

"Good luck, Briggs. Out."

* * *

**Next chapter will focus a little bit about Admiral Elric and his past, but from the next chapter on, it will just be fighting in Drachma until the war's end. Next chapter will also reveal a new weapon concerning Edward's capital warships. (His aircraft carriers and battleships)**

**Any tidbits or advice concerning the fight scene between Ed and Al would be appreciated, I don't know if I did a good job on it or not. Also, this is the rough translation of what Edward said to his officers in the German language:**

Alphonse and I are gonna spar out front. If it gets to the point where I'll seriously injure or even kill my brother, your orders are to use the sniper rifles to put me down. Understood?

**Thanks for being patient with me. Peace!**

**Update: I've started a Tumblr blog, my goal is to post pictures and other possible artwork that might help visualize this story. You can find the link on my profile page. Feel free to check it out.**


	19. Interim

**I'm still working on this story. When I was working today, I had the idea of putting down a teaser detailing the possible futures of this story. Whether I will be using any of this dialogue or not will remain to be seen. I slapped this together to give my readers what could possibly happen later on.**

**P.S. Disclaimer, I own nothing.**

* * *

"We need to learn to trust each other, or else we'll lose this war."

* * *

"The fact that the Drachmans were able to create such a creature means they are far more dangerous than we initially thought."

* * *

"Unidentified contacts coming through the fog! LIGHT THOSE FUCKERS UP!"

* * *

"Welcome to a real dogfight, bitch."

* * *

"We need more mortar strikes, 2 meters directly ahead of our current position!"

* * *

"We got the bastards on the run now!"

* * *

"My God, that's what your weapon is capable of doing?"

* * *

"I'm in command because I'm able to make the hard decisions and live with them! Can I say the same thing about you?!"

* * *

"You're my brother, and I love you. Nothing will ever change that."

* * *

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can't live without her."

* * *

"I never really stopped loving you, Envy."

"I feel the same way about you."

* * *

"I care about Winry, but not like that. I don't love her anymore like you do."

* * *

"YEAH! THIS WHAT WE DO, FUCKERS! GET DOWN AND SUCK IT HARD, YOU RUSSIAN WANNABES!"

* * *

"These so-called super soldiers have carved a path straight through our defenses like they weren't even there. Sir, we have to launch the Immortal Brigade!"

* * *

"I don't care what the tests say, the chimeras aren't ready!"

"Look around you! We're losing ground every day, WE NEED THOSE GODDAMN CHIMERAS, READY OR NOT!"

* * *

"Help us, please!"

* * *

"Why aren't we giving these families safe passage? Why are we treating them like the enemy?"

* * *

"Edward Elric is one of the best tacticians and soldiers I've ever met. He's also the most mentally unstable man I've known in my entire life. Please, be careful around him."

* * *

"I swore a promise to protect you, and that's what I'm gonna do."

* * *

"WHERE WERE YOU, HUGHES?! WHERE WERE YOU, WHILE COMSTOCK AND I HAD TO COMFORT EDWARD WHILE HE CRIED HIMSELF TO SLEEP EVERY NIGHT BECAUSE THE WAR HAD BROKEN HIM?! WHERE WERE YOU, YOU FUCKING COWARD?!"

* * *

"You still wanna kill yourself? Go ahead, that's fine by me."

* * *

"I don't know how I got this body, Al. But I never gave up on you being human when you were a soul in empty armor. Can you show the same thing to me?"

* * *

"You've changed. You really have changed."

* * *

"The Drachmans are more organized than we thought. How the hell did they accomplish this?"

* * *

"Ready all nuclear and bio-chemical weapons. Let's finish this."

* * *

"WHY DO THE DRACHMANS ALWAYS GET THE GOOD STUFF?!"

* * *

"Put the heavy metal on, let's start the head-bangers ball! ALRIGHT BOYS AND GIRLS, SPIN 'EM UP!"

* * *

"I'm asking for your allegiance."

"I don't know if I can give that to you anymore."

"Then you're a dead man."

* * *

"Christ, this is not going to plan."

* * *

"Brother, why didn't you tell us your ships could do this?!"

* * *

"I am _so_ glad we're not in a shooting war with you."

* * *

"I miss it. I really miss it, guys."

* * *

"I love it. I love this more than my own life."

* * *

"Edward Elric has been wanting to die for years. This is probably the closest he's ever gotten to kicking the bucket."

* * *

"We want answers, and we want them now."

"You'll get them, but you won't like it."

* * *

"You Xingese warriors sure know your stuff."

* * *

"Between our combined armies, this shouldn't be a problem."

* * *

"Capital City is within sight, commence bombardment immediately."

* * *

"These promotions, you two have had them coming for a long time. Don't worry, John, you'll still fly."

* * *

"I wanna know what it's like up there, Brother."

"Just don't puke in my plane, or I'll make you clean it out yourself. And that's nothing compared to what the deck chief will do to you."

* * *

"WOOHOO! THAT'S HOW WE DO IT! YOU DON'T FUCK WITH THE UNITED STATES, MOTHERFUCKER!"

* * *

"Can we have our anchor back, please?"

* * *

"Hooray, Roy Mustang the human flamethrower is here to save us."

* * *

"You gonna torch that fucker or just stand there, we're already three weeks behind schedule as it already is!"

* * *

"Whether you realize it or not, you're special."

* * *

"WHY WON'T THESE BASTARDS DIE?!"

* * *

"Awesome, a real life zombie apocalypse! Put on the good stuff!"

* * *

"I'm a changed man. This skeleton of mine should be proof enough."

* * *

"I like you. But the only reason you are still alive is because everyone onboard respects and fears the Admiral, obeying his order to not harm you. If it weren't for that, we'd have torn you to shreds the minute you came onboard."

* * *

"I remember everything, King."

"Well... shit."

* * *

"I started hallucinating in the tunnels."

"What happened down there?"

* * *

"Copy that, no sign of life in the village. Recommend immediate lift-off."

* * *

"Put the kids in the barn and set it on fire! DO IT NOW!"

* * *

"I signed up to kill Russians, not zombies merged with fucking wolves and grizzly bears!"

* * *

"What I did to the people of Milos is only the beginning!"

* * *

"No one messes with my sons!"

* * *

"You just made a bad mistake."

* * *

"I sold my soul to the devil a long time ago. Nuke the city."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Al. I'm so sorry."

* * *

"What... what are you?"

* * *

"My God... Edward... what did the United States do to you?"

* * *

"To be more accurate, he's an unfinished prototype of the next breed of American super-soldier. Stronger, faster, more durable and more intelligent than anything else we built before. The scariest thing is we have no idea if there are more like him."

* * *

"Where did the claws and blades come from?!"

"I really don't remember."

* * *

"Let's dance, motherfucker."

* * *

"You care for her, don't you?"

"More than you know."

* * *

"Copy that, sir, we are moving up."

* * *

"Mustang, what really happened to Grumman and Aerugo? I'm not afraid to inject you with truth serum to get my answers."

* * *

"Immortal Chimeras with alchemy? This shit gets better every day."

* * *

"Nuclear missiles inbound. ETA, 7 minutes."

* * *

"This is King Bradley, all hands abandon ship! I say again, ALL HANDS, ABANDON SHIP!"

* * *

"WE HAVE NOT LOST THE _AMERICA,_ WE WILL NOT LOSE THIS SHIP TO ANYONE ELSE! NOT WHILE I'M IN COMMAND!"

* * *

"Pick on someone your own size, fucker."

...

"Damn, that thing is big. Hope we can kill it."

* * *

"Dad, can I get your help with this?"

* * *

"There's nothing we can do. These memories are stuck with you."

* * *

"Indestructibility must run in the Elric family, then. Your dad is a human Philosopher Stone, your brother was a soul glued to a suit of armor, and considering the body you have..."

* * *

"When you've had a sledgehammer smash your spine, you'll know the true meaning of pain."

* * *

"I can't do this anymore, sir."

* * *

"Once we get back, I'm giving everyone a mandatory honorable discharge, they deserve it."

* * *

"I don't know what to say to the families of my dead soldiers when I return home."

* * *

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you, Olivia."

* * *

"Just like old times, eh Alphonse?"

"Sure is."

* * *

"Don't worry, he'll get his alchemy back, but at what cost are you willing to give?"

* * *

"All I want is to get my troops home, that's all."

* * *

"Fuck me. WHAT THE HELL ARE THE RUSSIANS DOING HERE?!"


	20. Chapter 18

**LO AND BEHOLD! I AM STILL ALIVE!**

**So sorry for the very long wait. Problem was I just did NOT have any inspiration to continue with the story any longer, so I had put it on hold. What brought me back was when I came across several videos of Vic Mignogna on YouTube, that was helped spur this back into action. Also, funny thing about this chapter. You see, when I put this story on hold, half of this was written down. When I started writing it again, I just finished it off best I could. I originally had another plot for this, but I decided to go a different route. Please, read and review.**

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 18

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Ft. Briggs

Briggs Mountain Range, Northern Amestris

"What do you think, Lt. Madsen?" Lt. Henschel asked.

"Tough situation. The Voryukt fields are 11, 12 days away at best. Having to move over 50,000 soldiers plus accompanying equipment and supplies isn't a walk in the park, even for us. Winters did say something about Zeppelins, though. Could it be possible that Drachma is using the airships to help move weapons and supplies?" Madsen wondered.

"Can these zeppelins be used to move troops?" Henschel asked.

"It's never been done in my world, and the zeppelins would have to be _massive_, but it could be done. The reason they're bringing zeppelins is for bomber support, at least that's how they were used originally in my world. The Drachmans could be using them for a myriad of reasons."

"And the biplanes?"

"For establishing air superiority."

"But with your weapons, we can certainly drive them back."

"Honestly, I don't know. The fact that they are bringing zeppelins and biplanes means that either they want to take the fort or they want to destroy it. Either way, we need to be ready. Remember, while it does matter about the size of your stick, it matters a lot more who's actually swinging it."

The Amestrian lieutenant didn't say anything.

"You wanna know something? Between you and me?"

"What is it?"

"I hope we don't invade Drachma. Ever heard of the saying, 'Never get involved in a land war in Asia?'"

"No. What does that mean?"

"It means if you invade a country much larger than yours, your supply lines will be stretched thin."

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Central City, Amestris

Fuhrer Mustang's Mansion

"Can I ask you something Al?" Edward asked as he cleaned his jet-black revolvers.

"Sure."

"What was it like when you first got your body back? Last I saw your body back at the Gate, you looked like you came from Auschwitz." Edward said. He immediately regretted saying that.

"What's Auschwitz?" Al asked, eager to find out.

"Al, do me a favor. Don't ever ask me that again. And forget I ever mentioned it. Just focus on the question, what was it like when you got your body back?" Edward asked, desperately hoping his very stern, military voice would do the trick.

_God-dammit, how could I have compared my own little brother to a Holocaust victim?! Just how many kinds of fucked up am I?!_ Edward thought to himself.

"Well, it was one hell-heck of an amazing experience. Well, it still is, actually."

"You know, part of me envies you. Getting to experience so many things that everyone else takes for granted. The tastes, the smells, the sounds..."

"Yeah, the wind in my hair, water on my skin, the warmth you feel when another person hugs you... I can't accurately describe how amazing it's been. Although, some sounds I can do without."

"Like firing a handgun?" Edward joked.

"Yeah, these are pretty loud." Al smiled, pointing at his brothers revolvers.

"You think these are loud? You have no idea what loud really is. Trying firing a .50 cal machine gun and then talk to me about loud." Edward smirked.

"No thanks, I think I'm good." Al responded.

"So, how'd you get so good with your motor functions? Using your hands and such? Can't imagine that would've been easy after five years without your body."

"It wasn't easy. Kept tripping over things, grabbing things either too strong or too weak… the physical therapy helped though."

"Any specifics you did?"

"Aside from the sparring and exercising? Yeah, I took up the piano. I was a little rough at it at first, but I kept going at it to help with my hands and fingers. I still play it every day. Not because of my hands, but because of the sounds, mostly. Guess I developed an ear for piano music." Al chuckled softly.

"I didn't know that. Mind if you show me a few things?" Ed asked. Al noticed that Edward never stopped taking apart, cleaning, and rebuilding his revolvers while they chatted. He actually never looked down at them, it looked as if his hands just ran automatically.

"You play?"

"Not the piano. Took up guitar during my spare time. Which, despite the war, was a lot. Not that great at it though." Edward said.

"Where'd you get so proficient at taking apart your guns and putting them back together? Not even General Hawkeye can take apart her pistol while not looking at it."

"Practice." Was all the Admiral said.

Edward then stood up, holstering his pistols and rested his arms against the balcony rail, being extra careful not to push on them. His prosthetic arm wasn't the lightest thing in the world, and all his muscle only helped his weight, and his super-human strength that could put him on par with a Homunculus would rip the steel rail to pieces like it was nothing.

"Hey Al, I wanna fresh start. Not just with you, but with everyone."

"What do you mean?"

"Al, be honest with me. Do you hate me?"

Al stood in shock at his older brother. He briefly thought about the question, though. Hate? No, he didn't hate his brother. He could never hate him. He could hate some of the actions that he's done, but he could never hate Ed. He gave his right arm to stick his soul in armor so Al could have another chance at life. Joined the military at a young age so he could have access to materials that could help the brothers in their quest to get their bodies back. The two had been through thick and thin during their journey in Amestris.

And at the very end, when Amestris was saved, Edward gave his up his ability to do alchemy, the one thing he loved most, for the brother he loved even more. Granted, no-one expected him to have been sent to an alternate world. Still, Al had committed himself to learn all forms of alchemy so he could try to get his brother back. The happiest day of Al's life was not when he got his body back, but when Edward had returned to Amestris. As a high-ranking military officer with a superhuman body and a large military force that was beyond anything Al could imagine, but all the same, his brother had returned home. That was the happiest day of Al's life, hugging his brother on the hanger deck of the _USS America_, in front of Edward's personal fighter jet.

"No, I don't hate you. I never could."

"I just wanted to know that." Edward said as the two walked into the house. _You'd hate me for the rest of our lives if you knew some of the things I've done during the war._

While many people in the US knew Edward Elric simply as the Fleet Admiral of the US Navy, which meant that he was the single head officer of the US Navy, he actually the unofficial commander of the _entire_ United States Armed Forces. Army, Air Force, Marine Corps, Navy, National Guard, and a somewhat new branch, the Air Corps Reserve. He had plenty of allies, but even more enemies, both in the military and government. He had helped build up the US Military to an enormously powerful force that no-one would dare think about challenging anymore. Although it was still numerically smaller compared to such countries like China and India, it was technologically superior to any other force.

What was only known to a select few people, namely Edward's Command Staff, was that Edward got rid of many political and military opponents, usually by having them brutally killed and then framing their deaths. The result was more power was given to him because of the need of high-ranking officers. It was actually those methods that helped Edward bring the United States out of the United Nations and out of the Geneva Conventions and other various treaties that he personally felt were very restrictive. Although those decisions made him very unpopular with the public, military support of Adm. Elric skyrocketed. At the end of the war, although it wasn't official, Martial Law was declared without his consent, and Edward Elric was practically the President of the United States, something he did NOT want. At all. On the other side of the coin, however, the aforementioned methods of disposing of his opponents were contradictory to what he thought would happen; it only helped to prolong the war because the US found itself lacking in military leaders.

It did help, however, that Edward was also the founder, CEO, and President of the largest private military company in the world, aptly named 'Fullmetal Corps.' Almost as advanced as the US Military, it was more numerous in that it was a multi-national organization that employed retired military operators from around the world. Being that his company had secret bases all around the world, Edward would use his company for secret Black Op missions that the United States Military couldn't achieve, mostly due to what Edward affectionately called 'Political Bullshit' that he despised having to work through.

Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, whistleblowers came and went, all in an attempt to bring him and his company down, whether it be his 'atrocities' or the fact that his company was built with help from the Mafia and various drug Cartels from Mexico and South America-who he then stabbed in the back and had the vast majority of them killed. However, they came out during the later years of the war, when public and military support of Edward Elric was growing stronger and going higher, so no one believed the reports.

The odd thing was, whenever questioned, Edward never confirmed nor denied the allegations. He never really regretted any of the actions he took, but part of him wished the higher ups in the government would catch wind of them. _Maybe then those bastards will finally kill me._

At this point, though, all Edward wanted to do now was put it all behind him. His brother deserved that. _He doesn't need to know his older brother was very suicidal. Hell, part of me still wishes to die. If it wasn't for this damn body of mine, maybe I'd get my wish._ Edward thought to himself.

"So what was it like? On the other side?" Al asked as the two continued their walk.

"On the other side of the gate? Christ, I don't know where to begin."

"Okay. Well, how about we skip the American military? I get the feeling it's a pretty powerful one." Al said with a smile.

"Oh, the word 'powerful' doesn't even begin to describe it." Ed scoffed. _Powerful? Without a doubt, best one on Earth. Evil and corrupt? Number one on Earth as well. I'm probably the worst, considering I lead it._ Edward thought to himself.

"So, describe something else. What's the rest of the world like? Their cultures, the geography of the planet." Al offered.

"Have you ever seen the Grand Canyon?" Edward offered as they walked into the main living room.

"What's the Grand Canyon?" Mustang asked.

For the next several hours and the course of a rather delicious celebratory dinner, Edward and his officers shared their experiences from living on Earth with the Amestrians, filling their heads and imaginations with descriptions of the world beyond The Gate. The majestic beauty of the snowcapped mountains of the Himalaya Mtn. Range, the massive Giza pyramids in Egypt, the mysterious stone heads on Easter Island, the wonders of Stonehenge, the smells and sounds of the Amazon rainforest, the underwater sea life of the Great Coral Reef, the ancient city of Machu Picchu, the massive structures of the Ancient Roman Colosseum and the Great Wall of China, the roar of the Niagara Falls, the beauty of the Northern Lights in the Arctic, the animal and sea life at the Galapagos Islands, the jaw-dropping sight of the Grand Canyon...

That wasn't all, though. Great cities and man-made structures of recent times were described, the massive size of New York City, the history of older cities such as Venice, Italy. Paris, France. Moscow, Russia. The Taj Mahal. The Statue of Liberty, the Eiffel Tower, the Sydney Opera House, the Great Golden Gate Bridge, the mind-blowing workings of the Panama Canal...

Anything and everything that the Americans could remember about their world, they described to them in detail.

"That's one beautiful world you guys come from."

"For the most part, yes. A lot of people claim that we're destroying the planet, but really, all you have to do is search long enough to find whatever beauty you're looking for, and you'll find it." Bradley replied.

"Son, after having heard all that, why did you tell me that all I'd find on the other side of the Gate is death? What you described the other world, it doesn't sound like a place filled with death and horror." Hohenheim stated.

Edward took a deep breath.

"Okay. You, you have to understand something. Since the day World War III ended, to the day I got home, was only six months. Compared to around a decade of warfare, six months isn't long.

When... when I said those things, I was still in the mindset of being in a war. Hadn't gotten over it. My... when the war ended, my mission... instead of blasting the Chinese to pieces, I was given new orders. Escort fleets of ships carrying troops and equipment for the occupation of China across the Pacific Ocean. I also had large cargo planes flying supplies into Asia as well. The ships with me are only a handful of ships that were meant for the occupation force. I still have no idea how we ended up here." Edward sighed, running his left hand through his blond hair.

"You wanna tell us the specifics of what happened?" Al asked.

"Maybe another time." Edward yawned.

"Why not now? By the way, Miss Rockbell, that apple pie was incredibly delicious. Thank you very much." Bradley complimented. Winry slightly blushed.

"Thanks. I actually got the recipe from your wife, Mr. Hughes." Winry said.

"I'm sorry, Miss Rockbell, but my wife is currently in Norfolk, Virginia on the East coast of the United States. I think you meant my... my counterpart's wife here in Amestris." Hughes said gently.

"Why don't you go meet her?" Envy asked, scratching his neck.

"I don't see the harm in that. You got a bathroom I can borrow, Mustang?" Ed asked.

"Sure, down the hall, 2nd door to your left."

As Winry and Maes made plans for him to meet up with his counterpart's wife and kid, Edward headed to the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door, stripped his jacket off and put his Desert Eagle on the granite countertop. He lowered his head, gently gripping the counter, taking careful measures to not destroy it. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, gently rubbing his right shoulder with his left hand.

Although the armor plating on the prosthetic had covered most of his shoulder, Edward could tell it was getting red and sore.

_Price I pay to not have it modified for the cold weather. Sure hope it works in Drachma._ Edward thought as he removed his arm, rubbing it gingerly. The Phantom Pain had never really gone away, not since he lost his arm at 10 years old... _Feels so long ago..._ Edward thought.

"Sure does, doesn't it? You still remember what happened, don't you?" a voice came from behind. Edward quickly turned around, pistol in hand-and found no-one. Sighing, Edward turned around, inspecting his shoulder.

"Ah, that's the Ed Elric I remember. Nice job, by the way, getting us killed in the mountains. Does everyone else here know about us?"

Edward breathed in heavily, his eyes clenched shut.

_Not now. Please, not now. Don't start, please don't start hallucinating again... I can't do this again, not again, please, not again..._

* * *

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Soul-Healer Alchemist, Alphonse Elric_

_Fullmetal Alchemist: Lt. Cmdr. John 'Envy' Comstock_

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Fuhrer Mustang's Mansion

Central City, Amestris

"Mr. Hughes, can I ask you something? Why did Edward fight with Al just barely?" Winry asked.

"I don't know. Did they always fight like that?" Hughes asked.

"Always, as far as I can remember. Those two were always fighting about something."

"Do you mean like sparring style of fighting? Or fighting whenever the two got angry and tried to bloody each other up?" Hughes asked.

"A little of both. When Ed became a State Alchemist, the two would spar with each other whenever they came home, which was usually for repairs to his automail. Honestly, the days when they came home were always the best, I always looked forward to them."

"I know that feeling. Being out at sea for months on end really makes you cherish the good times with the ones you love. I still can't imagine how Edward did it."

"Did what?"

"To everyone here in Amestris, Edward has been gone for around two years, right? Well, in his mind, he was in our world for 15. I can't even begin to fathom that. 15 years in a land completely foreign to you. The culture, the customs, money, technology, people, cities, countries... and yet he somehow survived all that. That's not something I could do easily, if at all. If I'm guessing right, the survival trait in the Elric's must be very strong. Our world threw some of the worst it had to offer Edward. Instead, he just looked death in the eye and said, 'bring it on.'

If the stories that Edward said are true about his brother, then I believe Alphonse will survive this war with Drachma and come home to the people he cares about, and the ones who care about him as well. I can tell you care about him. I think that will be enough to help him get through to the end."

"Thanks Mr. Hughes."

"Call me Maes." The veteran officer smiled. He then looked away.

"Do you guys hear something?" he asked. The sound of a piano being played started to echo in the large mansion.

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Fuhrer Mustang's Mansion

Central City, Amestris

"Damn. Nice piano, kid. How the fuck did you get something like this?" Envy asked as Al shifted his weight on the piano bench.

"Well, don't tell my brother this, but after he... left... I kinda started using his bank account, his State Alchemist funds. Still using them, actually. Anyway, as part of the rehab after I gained my body back, my dad and Winry suggested I pick up something to help keep my extremities moving. I always like the sound of a piano, so I thought I'd pick it up. Been playing it ever since."

"Hm. Somehow, I don't think Admiral Elric would mind that you used his money here in Amestris. He has no need for it anymore. Do you mind?" Envy asked, pointing to the bench.

"Sure, go ahead. Didn't figured you as the type that played piano, Envy." Al said as he and the pilot switched places. The veteran pilot stiffened, however, at hearing his callsign.

"Al, to me, Envy is my callsign. To be honest, I only feel comfortable when other American military personal call me that. When someone else does it, it feels... different. Just call me Comstock."

"Comstock."

"Yup. John Comstock is my name, rank of Lieutenant Commander, and current CAG on the flagship."

"CAG?" Al asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"Commander, Air Group. I'm the man in charge of all the pilots assigned to the _USS America_."

"Do you fly as well?"

Envy smirked. "Best pilot in the entire military, although some would say your brother could beat me. Ha, in his dreams."

"So which plane do you fly?" Al asked.

"Remember that large diamond shaped plane, the dark black one? You may have seen it."

"Yeah."

"That's what I fly. Don't wanna be guilty of bragging, but I'm pretty good at it too." Envy said as his fingers gracefully moved across the piano keys. Al was impressed.

"You're good at playing the piano, you know that?"

"Thanks. Out of all the instruments I play, I consider it to be the most beautiful sounding."

"What other instruments do you play?"

"Just the saxophone and guitar. Your brother's good on the guitar, but he will always say I'm better."

"He mentioned that earlier, about him playing guitar. While we were shooting one of his guns, oddly enough." Al said with a grin.

"Yeah, funny how he is. He could be down at the rifle range with an M-16 and if you try to talk to him, he'll chat you up about anything from guitars to how he broke his hand working on his motorcycle." Envy grinned.

"So he doesn't really talk a lot about military stuff?"

Envy paused at that, thinking.

"Well... he's not afraid to talk about past missions, although he doesn't go into detail about them. Bad memories he hasn't gotten over yet. I mean, technical stuff, like describing rifles, missiles, planes, stuff like that, that's easy for him. Command structure, easy. Missions? Hard to get him to open up. And especially, don't ask him if he's taken another's life." Envy said sternly.

"I... I kinda already did." Al said sheepishly.

"And you're still alive? At least not on the way to the hospital? He's got greater self-restraint than I thought." Envy scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Al asked defensively.

"Kid, let me ask you something, and I need you to be 100% honest with me: When Ed still lived in Amestris, before he came to us, what was his exact stance when it came to killing?" Envy asked seriously.

"Why do you want to know?" a voice came from the doorway. It was Mustang.

Envy rubbed his chin in thought, reminding himself that he needed to shave his stubble.

"Can I... Can I talk to everyone real fast? I, and my superiors, I think we'd all like to know what Edward was like here in Amestris before he came to the United States."

* * *

February 5th, 1918

Fuhrer Mustang's Mansion

Central City, Amestris

"Why do you want to know what Edward was like here in Amestris before he left?" Winry asked, leaning closer to Al as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Well, some items that have come up. Mostly everyone here saying that Edward has changed. We want to know how he has changed. I think it's safe to say both groups have experience with a different version of Ed Elric. We want to know what he was like when he was younger." Envy stated.

"Well, he was definitely an alchemy freak." Winry said with a soft smile.

"Alchemy freak?" Kimmler asked.

"He was obsessed with alchemy. We both were; picked it up when we were kids." Al started.

"Something you two were interested in?" Bradley asked. Al glanced at Hohenheim. Edward's officers picked it up immediately, but didn't say anything about it.

"That... is a little complicated, but we were heavily immersed in it."

"Let's talk about that later. What else?" Hughes asked.

"Well, sometimes immature. Sometimes we would tease him often about being short, and it would always send him off." Mustang said with a chuckle. "Kind of disrespectful, in a manner of speaking. Hell of a temper."

"Naïve, is how I thought of him when I first met him. He was still a kid when he first came to Ft. Briggs. We honestly thought he was a Drachman spy and almost shot him for it." General Armstrong put in.

"What made you change your mind?" Hughes asked.

"The fort came under attack by a Homunculus. When I asked him if he knew who or what it was, he told me he couldn't answer. Now, at the time, I didn't know that the leadership of this nation was holding his friend hostage to keep him in line. I didn't see a soldier, just a young man who would do anything to protect those he cared about, even if it meant disobeying a direct order. What also helped was that he helped us uncover a plot concerning corruption in the upper ranks of the military that almost destroyed the country."

"That's a little like him. What else?" Kimmler asked further.

"I guess one of his best traits was that he was always willing to whatever it took to restore my body back." Al said somberly.

"What do you mean by that?" Envy asked. Al didn't answer.

"Alphonse, what do you mean by restoring your body? Does it have something to do with Mustang's earlier comment about Edward putting your soul in a suit of armor? Because to be honest, Edward never told us anything about that." Hughes lied. Edward did tell him a little about that, but he wanted the rest of his comrades to know as well.

"Okay, I'll explain." Al sighed, breathing heavily.

"When we were little, our dad left us for reasons we didn't understand back then. We discovered his alchemy books in his study and began to read them ourselves, and before long, we began doing alchemy ourselves. Whenever it did, it always made our mom smile. And that's how we got immersed in alchemy, because of our mother.

When she died... that really hurt us, especially Edward. So we decided to break the taboo, perform Human Transmutation, which was and still is illegal. We thought it bring our mom back to life, but it didn't. Instead, the transmutation rebounded. It backfired on us, destroyed my whole body and took my brother's left leg. He gave up his right arm as a sacrifice to bring my soul back and had it planted in a suit of armor. After that, we made it our mission to search all of Amestris for a means to restore our bodies, even if we had died on the way." Al stated firmly.

"Hell of a goal. Edward actually did tell us all that, but we thought he was just very imaginative. Guess we were wrong." Bradley muttered.

"A good combatant. Definitely someone you'd want on your side, as you gentlemen might attest to, being he's in your military. Better friend. He's someone who sticks to his morals and doesn't give up." Ling Yao stated.

"Got an example?" Envy asked.

"When Ed and I were trapped in Gluttony's stomach, there was a moment I was prepared to give it up and die. Instead, he pulled me over his shoulder and carried me out, kept me alive instead of dying in that sea of blood. And when I offered him a Philosopher Stone to help him bring his brother back, he denied the use of it, saying that he swore to never use one. That's admirable, in my opinion."

"A little stubborn, but admirable in that regard." Miles quipped. "There was a mission up north where we were tasked with hunting down a rogue State Alchemist. I gave the order to have him shot, but Edward resisted and felt we should capture him and interrogate the man instead. He was very adamant that we didn't kill the man. A harder path, but an envious one, in a manner of speaking."

"What's Edward like now?" Breda asked. The American officers sighed.

"Well, he's a damn good officer. Takes his oath to protect the United States of America very seriously, more seriously than anyone else. He's also very smart, I mean, very smart. I still don't know how he rebuilt our military, he just has that way with money to make it work. But he's also very dangerous." Bradley replied.

"How so?" Winry asked.

"Listen. Edward Elric is one of the best tacticians and soldiers I've ever met. He's also the most mentally unstable man I've known in my entire life. I'm not joking when I say you should be very careful around him. He's not... all there, in his mind. The fact that he's still here really says a lot about his mental strength."

"What exactly do you mean, Mr. Bradley?" Alex Armstrong asked.

"Might as well tell you. There was once a time when, for about four years straight, every November 3rd, he would get completely plastered drunk to the point where he couldn't do anything. Literally, anything. I don't know why, but I had the misfortune once of asking him why he always did it. Let's just say his answer... made me question his sanity. I agree with the Commander, I don't think Ed's all there." Envy said, scratching his neck.

"What, does he have some sort of mental brain damage or something?" Havoc asked.

"No, just a really bad form of PTSD, strong enough that... well, enough to drive him to suicide. On more than one occasion." Hughes remarked somewhat blatantly. All of the Amestrians were stunned to hear that.

"He's thought about killing himself more than once?" Riza asked softly.

"Thought of? Hell, he's tried to kill himself time after time for years. Gave up a while ago, but I really believe he still has those inklings." Bradley sighed.

"He's ruthless in combat. More of the 'shoot first, ask later' type of man. He doesn't really discriminate between his targets either. If you get in his iron sights, chances are high he'll shoot you dead, whether your military or civilian. I don't think he really cares." Kimmler sighed.

"Very protective of his troops, though. Will always put their lives before his, every single time. Despite his high rank, where he should be behind a desk, he prefers to be out in the field with a rifle with his Marines. He's the only one that does that; it's one of the reasons why we all follow him. He never asks a man or women to do something he can't do himself. Usually, he always tells his soldiers to lay down suppressing rifle fire while he's the one that does the charging. Some say it's so he can get the glory, but we know better. He does it so he doesn't have to lose so many man and women." Hughes remarked.

"Kills for shock value, though. I can't say he gets enjoyment out of it, but I can't say that he regrets his actions. He just does it, like it's as natural to him as breathing. Corrupt as well. Not in terms of money, he has more than enough. More like he's morally bankrupt than anything else. He's done things that should earn him a one-way trip to the firing squad." Bradley remarked.

"And what about you?" Mustang asked, wondering if Bradley was trying to paint a target on Ed's back.

"Let me put it like this, Fuhrer: In peace time, those ships out there would be rusting in a dry dock because the Navy would be busy trying to find a new crew to run them, because the current crew would be forming one hell of a massive line for the execution rifle range. We've all done things that will earn us a special spot in hell, but we can live with them. Well, as least Edward can. Fucker could make a living as a hit man if he ever gets out of the military, and he'd be a damn good one too. That's how much he's changed, if you were all wondering." Bradley said firmly. The room was silent for a moment.

"You also forgot the part where I don't like my secrets being told without my explicit permission." A tired voice came from the corner of the room. Everyone jumped at the sound of the Fleet Admiral's voice. Edward stood in the corner of the large lounge room. He was leaning against the wall, a slightly pained expression on his face. Sweat had formed not just on his face, but also on his torso as well, which was visible through his open jacket.

"Are you alright, sir?" Bradley asked, concern visible in his voice.

"Yes, I'm fine." Edward sighed before his eyes rolled back. He fell to his knees first, and then the rest of his muscular body slammed on the floor, his head smashing against the hard wood floor.

"ADMIRAL!" "EDWARD!" the two names mixed in the air as _everyone_ immediately clambered around the fallen soldier/former alchemist.

"What's wrong with him?" Ling asked, trying to turn him on his back, amazed at how heavy he was, although the Xingese emperor attributed that to Edward's muscles and prosthetic limbs.

"Hell if I know, move!" Kimmler snarled. After Edward was flipped on his back, Kimmler pressed his hands against his CO's body, feeling his chest, stomach, ribs, waist, to see what was wrong. He had an idea, and he didn't like it.

"Bradley, we gotta get him back to the _America._ Right. Fucking. Now." his tone of voice had only one feel to it: Do as I say, and do it right now.

* * *

**I promise the war against Drachma will take place next chapter. It will be the American's first engagement against Drachma, and both sides will be pulling out the big guns for this.**


	21. Author's Note

Author's note: I won't be posting any new chapters for a bit. Instead, I'm gonna be rewriting select parts of this story. Chapter 3 will be rewritten entirely.

One item I'm gonna change is that Izumi Curtis lives, Ed doesn't kill her. But his mental damage will be shown more. Also, I'm going to strengthen Edward's fleet. More ships, more troops, and A LOT more military equipment.

This is going to take some time, so the story will be put on hold for a while.


End file.
